


Enter Darkness

by Thunder_the_Wolf



Series: Just A Dream [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Reincarnation, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-19 06:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 20,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13698588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_the_Wolf/pseuds/Thunder_the_Wolf
Summary: Firestar has done it! He’s defeated Tigerstar once and for all and is ready to join his mentor and countless other warriors in StarClan for a well-deserved afterlife. But when he wakes up, he finds that StarClan is not his first stop. Armed with the knowledge of nine lives, Firestar is determined to do things right this time around! But all is not as he once recalled…





	1. Chapter 1

The ginger tom snapped awake with a terrified yowl, collar rattling wildly as he jerked and flailed. He’d done it. Tigerclaw was dead once and for all, and the Dark Forest cats were gone. The last thing he recalled was his mate’s horror-stricken face.

_“You weren’t supposed to waste your life on this!” She’d insisted._

Sandstorm… he’d miss her with all of his heart, and now-. Wait,  _ **since when did he rattle when he moved?!**_

He glanced down to find himself sleeping on a carpet, something he hadn’t seen since his days as a kittypet. In fact, this looked like the very same carpet… and he probably had a bell, which meant a collar. This was a couple days before he was invited to the Clans! But why was he back here? He’d always thought he’d be going to StarClan, with Bluestar and Whitestorm and Lionheart. He thought he’d shed his ties to the Twoleg world for good!

Is this… was he not good enough for StarClan?

No, no way. They  _accepted_  him. They gave him nine lives!

_They gave Brokentail and Tigerclaw nine lives too…_

He’d just have to see what happened this time. If this was some weird place between StarClan and the Dark Forest where he got to fix his mistakes before he moved on, he would go through with it and hope for the best.

Mind made up, he stepped through his old cat door to find that it was nighttime. He made his dirt under the old purple ever-sweet plant before taking his place atop the fence post to the garden. He scanned the woods. This was him at six moons old, with all the knowledge of his life as a warrior and eventual leader of ThunderClan. All the same, this body hadn’t trained a day in his life before he woke up this evening. He had no hope of ever getting his old life back.

“StarClan, can you even hear me?” He whispered, searching the stars for a sign that someone, anyone, was listening.

He sighed and leaped to the ground on the opposite side of the fence. If he didn’t get answers, he’d have to find them himself.

“Where are you off to, Rusty?”

_Smudge._

Sure enough, he glanced up to see the black-and-white tom balancing ungracefully on the fence.

“You should get down there before you hurt yourself.” Firest- no, Rusty, insisted. “And I’m going to the forest.”

Smudge had been a good old friend, like the kind that Greystripe and Dustpelt would become. They’d known each other since they were first allowed outside, and Rusty knew that some part of him would miss Smudge.

“Haven’t you heard what Henry says about the wild cats?! It’s dangerous for house cats to be out there!”

“Henry hasn’t been out there a day in his life.” Rusty drawled.

“Don’t go, Rusty, I’ll never see you again!” Smudge wailed. Rusty sighed and hopped back onto the fence, pressing his pelt against the other tom’s.

“Even if that’s true, I’ll never forget you.” He insisted. “You’ll always be my first friend, Smudge, but if I don’t see what’s out there, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” He insisted.

Smudge nodded reluctantly and nuzzled Rusty’s cheek.

“Good luck, then. You’re so clever I bet you could take those wildcats on any day.”

“I hope so.” Rusty chuckled as he hopped down once more. This was it. He was one step closer to his old life, one step closer to ThunderClan.


	2. Chapter 2

The forest was exactly as he remembered, and he missed it so. His knowledge here would serve him well. He froze when a dark red shape flitted past the corner of his eye. Fox, he knew. Definitely not good on his first day out, but he could always avoid it. So he padded deeper into the forest, taking in the sights and sounds as the town melted away.

He didn’t get far when he ran into Greypaw. Or more accurately, Greypaw lunged for him.

He decided to stick with the basics. He wasn’t trained yet and there was no way he’d show up his best friend. So he let himself be thrown to the side and scratched a bit before flipping onto his back and heaving Greypaw off. The thick-furred tom was still a kitten, but there was a lot more fur to go through. He lunged as soon as he got free, claws sheathed. He didn’t want to hurt Greypaw, and besides, this was a test. He knew that Bluestar wouldn’t allow anyone to kill another cat, kittypet or not. Greypaw struggled free and shook himself out.

“Whoa there, kittypet, perhaps you’re not as tame as I thought.” The long-haired tom meowed, amazed.

“Try me!” Rusty scoffed playfully, shifting from paw to paw. He’d forgotten how much fun it was to catch his friends by surprise.

“I’m Greypaw, by the way, and I’m training to be a warrior of ThunderClan.”

Rusty’s heart soared. Things were going well!

But how much should he give away?

“You’re one of the wild cats.” He offered. “And there’s more than just you?”

“Of course there are! I can’t be the only cat in the forest. I’m not even the meanest!” 

And Greypaw burst into a proud speech about the four Clans, information that Rusty already knew. He was good at looking interested, though, because Greypaw finished his speech with an over-glorified spit.

“Interesting.” Rusty purred, amused. “You think you’ll be a warrior soon?”

“No way! This is my first time out! I’ve got a long way to go before I even have a chance at passing an assessment, much less getting my warrior name.”

“Well, you’re off to a good enough start.” A new voice rumbled. Lionheart and Bluestar quite literally dropped down in front of them, and Rusty stumbled back, amazed. He’d forgotten how big they looked at this age, Lionheart in particular. Bluestar looked regal as ever, despite the scars that marred her fur and the weariness in her eyes.

Greypaw crouched guiltily, and Rusty figured he’d better do the same. No need to get Greypaw in any more trouble than he was already in.

“He’s obviously no threat.” Greypaw boasted.

“That’s not what you said just now.” Rusty scowled.

“Indeed it is not.” Bluestar snorted, amused. “Sit up, Greypaw, you too, kittypet.”

“Rusty.” The orange tom grumbled.

“Come again?” She asked, eyes glittering dangerously.

“If you’re going to address me, I would prefer it be by my given name, which is Rusty.”

Bluestar turned to Lionheart, who snickered.

“Oh, I like him already.” The golden tabby said.

“Alright then,  _Rusty_ , why were you on ThunderClan territory?”

“I was trying to hunt when this giant furball of a kitten crashed into me and tried to kill me. Then you guys came along and here we are.”

Oh, how he  _missed_  this…

“And here we are.” The majestic grey queen echoed. “Since you’re clearly bold enough to fight off one of our apprentices, I have a proposition for you.”

Rusty nodded and his fur prickled nervously. What if they didn’t give him a chance?

“How would you like to join ThunderClan?”

“When do we leave?” He blurted out excitedly.

“Rather eager, are we?” Lionheart mused thoughtfully.

“I came here to see what it was like. Being a housecat guarantees a certain amount of comfort, food, safety, but it’s boring, being stuck inside all day with no one to play with and nothing to do. If you’re really interested in me, then I’ll take whatever you offer.”

“Your friend didn’t seem so willing to let you go.” Bluestar offered.

So she’d heard the conversation between him and Smudge…

“You weren’t being very quiet.”

“There was no need to be. And Smudge will be fine. He’s friendly enough that every house cat can’t help but get along with him. I’m not as lucky, and I see no reason to stay where I’m not wanted.”

“You may not be wanted by everyone in the Clan.”

“I can deal with that.” Rusty insisted. “Just give me a chance. I just need a purpose.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for. Keep up then,  _Rusty_ , there are plenty of cats to meet.”

Bluestar bolted into the undergrowth, followed swiftly by Lionheart and Greypaw.

Rusty fought back a proud yowl. He was one step closer to getting his old life back!


	3. Chapter 3

The forest was the same, Rusty realized, but not everything would stay that way. It was past moonhigh, and the Clan gathered to see the newcomer even before Bluestar made her infamous call. **  
**

“Bluestar and Lionheart have a prisoner!” A kit called.

“Greypaw, get away from that cat! We have no clue who it is!” Willowpelt snapped. Greystripe didn’t talk about his parents much, no cat did, really, but he knew that Greystripe and Darkstripe were brothers, and Willowpelt was their mother.

“Where does he come from?” One cat, a tortoiseshell that he recognized to be Redtail, meowed, stepping forward to sniff him curiously. Rusty let the current deputy circle him, marveling at just how big the slender tortoiseshell really was. He could probably smother Rusty if he stretched enough.

“Not any Clan of  _this_  forest. Maybe another?” He asked, staring at Bluestar. “Or is he a kittypet?” Redtail scoffed, lip curled.

Rusty bared his teeth.

“Get this thing off me and I’ll show you just how much of a warrior I can be.” The orange tom growled without thinking. The crowd gasped. Did a newcomer, one the age of an apprentice, just challenge the deputy of the Clan?!

“This one has potential.” Redtail meowed, pleased. “He’ll make a fine apprentice once he knows the rules.”

“As was my plan, Redtail.” Bluestar meowed from the base of Highrock. “Anyone who would accept Rusty’s challenge to strip him of his old life, step forward. Succeed and you get first pick of the pile.”

Despite the reward, no one was willing to touch the kittypet. Rusty rolled his eyes and turned to stare at Bluestar when he was bowled over. Cream fur entered his vision and he sighed, annoyed. Apparently some things wouldn’t change.

* * *

His short battle with Longtail did free him of his collar. They also both earned quite a few scratches and Longtail had a nicked ear. Rusty took pride in the idea that Longtail would carry that scar for life.

Bluestar stepped forward, yowling for silence as she approached the two opponents.

“The newcomer has lost his Twoleg collar in a challenge for his honor. Both cats have fought well, and as a result, Rusty will receive a place in the Clan. Rusty, from this night forth, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Firepaw.” She informed him.

Firepaw purred agreeingly. He was once more a member of ThunderClan. He had his chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Greypaw took him to Spottedleaf’s den, where she placed leaves and crushed herbs on Longtail’s ear. Medicine had never been his forte, although he knew that Sandstorm and Squirrelflight knew a bit thanks to Cinderpelt and Leafpool respectively. He couldn't wait to see them again. He resolved to know a bit more about herbs, if only so he could save his own life. 

The medicine cat took one look at him and went back in her den. 

“Spottedleaf?” Greypaw called, confused. 

“Did I do something to offend you?” Firepaw asked. 

The tortoiseshell didn't respond, and when she stepped back in their line of sight, they knew why. Spottedleaf carried a bundle of herbs in her mouth that she set at his feet before staring at him. 

She murmured something about stupid toms making her job harder before she got to work, crushing herbs and smearing them on cobwebs before sticking them on his pelt. 

When she was done, she stepped back and nodded, gesturing for him to leave. He dipped his head in thanks and padded back I to the main part of camp, where several cats, led by a grumbling Longtail, had fresh-kill. 

“Well done, Firepaw.” 

Whitestorm… the wise tom had been his first mentor, unofficial though it was. He was the one that Firepaw looked up to the most in his early days. 

“Longtail is a young warrior, but he has still completed his training. A defeat from a kitten won't be forgotten in a hurry.” 

“I'm more than I seem.” Firepaw rebuffed. 

“I'm sure you are.” The large white tom purred, touching his nose to the top of Firepaw’s head. 

Greypaw, who had stayed behind to badger Spottedleaf, now scampered over to watch Whitestorm leave. 

“That was strange.” The grey apprentice commented. “Whitestorm doesn't usually take to cats like that. Sure, he gives good advice and he's Sandpaw’s mentor, but he's something of a loner. Tigerclaw grew up with him and he still can't get Whitestorm to say more than a few words to… almost anyone in the Clan. Whitestorm knows exactly who everyone is, but he's not one to interact. He just… watches.” 

That was new. Did something happen to Whitestorm that Firepaw didn't know about?

“Although my mom, Willowpelt, she seems to get him out of the den. Bluestar too, and Redtail or Tigerclaw. He'll talk to the elders occasionally, but that's it.” 

Bluestar, Redtail, Willowpelt, Tigerclaw, and the Clan’s elders… but everyone talks to the elders. The number of cats that Whitestorm felt he could count on was small, and unfortunately, would get a lot smaller.

* * *

He got a nest between Greypaw and Ravenpaw. His solid black friend was still apprenticed to Tigerclaw, and still scared of his own shadow. He resolved to keep an eye out for Ravenpaw and Tigerclaw in the next few days, because if things went anywhere close to what happened last time, then he wouldn't get the chance to know Redtail like he wanted to.

He curled up in the empty nest and closed his eyes. This had been a surprisingly long day. 


	5. Chapter 5

He got his first taste of patrols after a good night's rest, and he recognized Dustpaw as the one standing over him. 

“C'mon, kittypet, we've got a hunting patrol. You know how to hunt?” Dustpaw sneered.

“I'll learn soon enough, won't I?” Firepaw growled. 

Dustpaw scoffed and walked out of the den. Firepaw rolled to his feet and stretched his limbs, stepping out of the den and pausing shortly to feel the sunlight in his fur. 

“Good, you're awake.” Bluestar meowed impatiently. “Eat quickly. There is hunting to be done, so you'll have to learn as you go.” 

“Of course, Bluestar.” Firepaw dipped his head and padded to the fresh-kill pile, where he found a mouse near the bottom. He tucked into it eagerly, gobbling it down before he joined the patrol. 

He, Bluestar, Redtail and Dustpaw would practice hunting techniques today, and then he and Dustpaw try hunting on their own. Dustpaw hadn't liked him the last time they were apprentices, but then neither had Sandpaw and they ended up mates. Maybe something could change.

The four left without another word, and for the second time in as many days, Firepaw entered the forest. 

* * *

_There was so much to take in_ , he mused as he crept along forest floor. It was the coldest time of the year, but luckily no snow fell yet. Snow was one of his favorite things about being a housecat. Even still, leaves scattered across the forest floor and twigs snapped easily, so he'd have to beware of them.

“You're awfully quiet for a kittypet.” Dustpaw meowed softly. 

“I played tricks on my friends back home, so I know a few things about how to creep up on other cats. My friend Smudge used to call me Ghost, as a joke.” 

That wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the entire truth. 

They continued on his silence until they reached what Firepaw would later recall as the sandy hollow. 

“Dustpaw, get into position for a mouse.” Redtail ordered, speaking for the first time all morning. 

Dustpaw shifted away from Firepaw and then crouched where he stood. Firepaw took notice as Redtail widened his apprentice's stance and lifted his tail. 

He went over it in his head twice before deciding to copy Dustpaw. 

“Very good for a first try.” Bluestar meowed as she lowered his tail and narrowed his stance. Apparently he'd overdone it a bit. 

“Now pounce.” The mentors ordered as they stepped back to observe. Firepaw sprang forward, sailing through the air before landing on his paws and stumbling sideways. 

“Perhaps if you were going for a bird in midflight that would be fine, but you need to remember balance when you spring, and don't aim too high. Watch Dustpaw.”

The brown tabby sprang, aiming more forward rather than leaping upward, as Firepaw had done. He landed neatly on his paws as a result. 

* * *

They practiced hunting crouches for what felt like ages, until the sun was high in the sky, which was when Bluestar informed them that after a short break, they'd try hunting on their own.

Firepaw caught a mouse. Not on his first try, and not on his own, but he did make the final kill, considering that Dustpaw was chasing toward him. Firepaw nodded his thanks. 

“I won't be doing that forever.” the older apprentice insisted. 


	6. Chapter 6

The apprentice and their mentors were bringing their catches back when Ravenpaw skittered up to them, panting and fearful. 

“Tigerclaw launched us into battle over Sunningrocks and we need reinforcements!” 

So they chased Ravenpaw to Sunningrocks. It was a bit further from where they were than the camp was to Sandy Hollow, but Firepaw had made the journey before. Still, he was surprised to find cats writhing around and clawing each other when he and the four others launched themselves into battle. 

He made sure to keep an eye out for Redtail and Tigerclaw, because if this was what he thought… some cat bowled him over and he struggled for air. This was not the best time to be reminded that he was six moons old with no battle training. He choked as claws ripped through his fur, and was lucky enough to find purchase on the enemy's tail. 

He yanked, which sent the other cat sprawling with a pained yowl. He got to his paws and sped toward the rocks, where he'd gotten a flash of red fur. He skidded to a stop just in time for a RiverClan warrior to call a retreat, and the ThunderClan cats yowled their victories. 

The red cat he'd seen was not Redtail, but the RiverClan deputy. He'd never seen Oakheart with his own eyes before, but Mistyfoot’s tales about her father were true, he realized as some loose rocks tumbled into the clearing. 

Every cat scattered, and Firepaw knew that Mistyfoot just lost her father. The orange apprentice dove for the nearest bush and waited. Bluestar and the others were long gone by now, and Oakheart was dead. That left only Tigerclaw and Redtail in the clearing, the latter to make sure that everyone got out, and the former to kill him. 

Sure enough, Tigerclaw raked thorn-sharp paws across Redtail’s chest, and Firepaw made to spring… but couldn't. Just like Ravenpaw beside him, he watched, horrified, as Tigerclaw slaughtered Redtail. He choked, throat thick with fear, before he only saw black.

* * *

 

His eyes snapped open and he shot to his feet with a loud howl. 

Panting, he stepped forward, only to glance down when he rustled something with his paws. There was no moss or bracken just laying on the forest floor, so what-? Oh. He was in his nest. How did he get to his nest? 

“I brought you back before we were seen.” Ravenpaw explained, having rolled over at the sight of Firepaw fidgeting in his sleep. “Spottedleaf gave you some poppyseeds. Redtail is…” 

_ Dead, he knows. Stars…  _

“We have the day off from training, you and me. Spottedleaf’s orders.” 

That wouldn't do anything but make him bored and give him more nightmares. A look around the den revealed empty nests. 

“What time is it?” 

“Almost sunrise. You weren't out for long, but the others went on the dawn patrol. You were yowling pretty loudly before Spottedleaf gave you poppyseeds.”

“Did I say anything?”

“Nothing too bad. Just kept calling out to Redtail. Better than me. I had to ask Speckletail if she didn't mind me sleeping in the nursery.” 

Firepaw shrugged and shook his head. 

“Queens are fierce. They certainly wouldn't like Tigerclaw barging into their den and waking you up from some well-deserved sleep. Why'd you come back to the apprentice den?” 

“I started whimpering in my sleep. It wasn't loud enough to wake anyone, but Goldenflower was up already, and she suggested I go get some poppyseeds. I didn't want to disturb anyone after that.” 

“I couldn't save Redtail.” Firepaw scowled as he followed Ravenpaw to the fresh-kill pile. “I stayed behind because I felt like something bad was going to happen. But then I just…” 

“Yeah, I know. But it's okay. We're alive, and Redtail wouldn't blame us. With no proper training, we probably would have made things worse.” 

They each took something from the fresh-kill pile, but Firepaw wasn't hungry, too choked up to even think about eating. 

“I'm gonna see if the elders want this.” Firepaw mumbled around the squirrel he had. 

“Good idea.” Ravenpaw offered, glad that he didn't start on the mouse he chose.


	7. Chapter 7

The elders were more than happy to have them, even though it was early in the morning.

“Smallear and Halftail sleep like badgers, but I'm definitely interested in that squirrel you have there, youngster. I'm Patchpelt and that's Dappletail. She likes mice just fine. Don't worry about One-eye either. She'll never hear a word you're saying. I heard you two went into battle yesterday. How'd you sleep?” Patchpelt whispered softly.

“Not well, I'm afraid.” Ravenpaw murmured. “Spottedleaf gave us both poppyseeds.” 

“Youngsters like you shouldn't be thrust into battle at such an early age,and I'm sure Bluestar isn't too happy with Tigerclaw.” 

Firepaw gulped and fought back a wail, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Why not?” He asked when he could look at Patchpelt properly again. 

“Well, he's the one who called the battle. Right in the middle of leafbare and right after we just lost it, too. Granted we got the rocks back, it was at the cost of our herbs and your sanity. Nothing's worth that.” The older black and white tom insisted.

* * *

 

They spent well into the day in the elder's den, chatting as the remaining members woke up. Ravenpaw got them fresh-kill and Firepaw got mouse bile for ticks. It smelled foul. Both Spottedleaf and Patchpelt warned the apprentices not to lick their paws or they'd regret it. 

After the elders were fed and de-ticked, Firepaw was itching for more to do. He didn't want to think about yesterday, and Spottedleaf said he and Ravenpaw couldn't leave camp. 

He ran into Goldenflower as he passed by the nursery, and she greeted him with a sympathetic mew. 

“You did well, for your first time out of camp let alone your first battle. Tigerclaw said that you and Ravenpaw fought like warriors.” 

Firepaw fought the urge to flinch at the sound of Tigerclaw’s name. He didn't want to remember what happened to Redtail. 

“We had to.” He croaked. “All of us.” 

“Would you like a grooming?” She asked gently, lifting his head up with her tail. He hadn't meant to hunch over himself. 

“Excuse me?” He muttered, shocked. 

“Surely your mother groomed you when you were younger.” Goldenflower asked amusedly.

“I…” He didn't remember his mother. He barely remembered the sister he slept beside as a kit. The sun-furred she-cat purred sadly when he told her that. 

“All the more reason for a grooming, young tom. We'll go sit by the warming rocks and you can tell me exactly what you think about ThunderClan so far.” 

So they did. Goldenflower’s tongue was gentle on his fur, and she responded to his questions and thoughts with soft answers and gentle hums. 

“How did you end up with a cat like Tigerclaw?” He asked eventually. 

“I was wondering when that would come up. Goldenflower laughed. “My first mate was Patchpelt. He's a rather recent elder, and it was a one-time thing, but I wouldn't trade Swiftkit for the world. That said, most cats see Tigerclaw as rather aggressive, but he's also got a soft side. He plays with Swiftkit in the nursery, and even convinced him to eat prey when I was weaning him off milk. He absolutely adores Swiftkit, and he's so excited by the idea of kits of our own.” 

“That sounds far nicer than what I thought of him in battle.” Firepaw mewed drowsily. “I'm glad you have him.” 

The ginger tom knew right then that whatever Tigerclaw’s faults, he wouldn't willingly (physically) hurt Goldenflower. He hadn't before. 

“Of course you'd run to the nearest queen, mewling like a kitten after your first battle.” Darkstripe sneered. 

“And where were you yesterday?” Dustpaw snarled from where he’d poked his head out of the nursery with a wad of fresh moss at his paws. “I think you'll reconsider who you're calling a kit, Darkstripe, because Firepaw, Ravenpaw and I fought like warriors! What were you doing?” 


	8. Chapter 8

Bluestar called a meeting and Firepaw got to his paws. According to Ravenpaw and Patchpelt, the Clan was given two nights to grieve before the leader chose the next deputy at moonhigh. To Firepaw, this was more realistic than asking Bluestar to turn around and appoint a new deputy so quickly after Redtail had passed. It had been night when Ravenpaw announced it the first time around. This way, Bluestar had more time to think. 

“I say these words before the body of Redtail, that he may hear and approve of my choice.” Bluestar called to the heavens. “I have chosen Lionheart as the next deputy.” 

Muted cheers and congratulations swelled as a surprised Lionheart got to his paws. Greypaw, who had returned at some point during the day, crashed into his mentor with excited yowls. 

“Redtail also mentored Dustpaw, so to continue his apprenticeship, Dustpaw will be mentored by Darkstripe.” 

Bluestar obviously hadn't heard them snapping earlier, but Dustpaw turned out alright the first time.

* * *

Greypaw woke Firepaw this time, and reminded him that training begins at sunrise. It had been a couple days since the battle and Redtail's vigil, and it was time to get back into the swing of things. Or so Bluestar claimed when she saw them. 

Firepaw wasn't eager to have Tigerclaw watching his every move, but he was even more concerned for Ravenpaw. He got the feeling that the black tom would leave as he did last time, but now that he knew things better, his heart ached for his friend. 

“Keep up, kittypet.” Darkstripe snapped. Sandpaw snorted, and a wave of hurt swept over Firepaw. Even though he remembered ever so clearly how things ended regarding he and Sandpaw, it still hurt to think that he would have to endure moons of taunting to get there. They reached the sandy hollow, where Tigerclaw and Whitestorm waited for them alongside Lionheart. 

“Right on time.” Tigerclaw sneered, taking on Firepaw’s ungroomed pelt and Ravenpaw's shaking form. “We’ll be marking the borders today. Try to keep up.” He scowled. 

With that, they were off. First up was Sunningrocks. The way they got there was different from the route they took to get to the battle, but Sunningrocks remained the same. 

“It's ours now. We earned it.” Darkstripe boasted. 

“At what cost?” Lionheart snapped. They followed the border to Fortress, where Lionheart explained Gatherings. There would be one soon, Firepaw knew. Lionheart nodded approvingly when he said so. 

Dustpaw and Darkstripe broke off to do some hunting, which left Firepaw and Greypaw with Lionheart and Tigerclaw. Though the ginger apprentice was nervous, he took comfort in the fact that Greypaw was here. Tigerclaw wouldn't dare attack Lionheart when he knew there were cats able to see exactly what was going on.

The Thunderpath mingled with ShadowClan scent, strong and sour. Firepaw still didn't understand monsters, but he knew from experience to stay as far away as possible. 

By the time they got back to camp, Dustpaw and Sandpaw were back. The brown tabby tom raised his tail in greetings and Sandpaw nodded curtly. 

“You haven't eaten all day.” She informed him. “And you barely ate yesterday. The elders told me you gave them the first thing you picked up. So here.” She tossed him a mouse. 

“It's okay to have nerves after your first battle, but don't suffer because of them.” 

“You tell Ravenpaw that?” Firepaw wondered. 

“I didn't have to. Brindleface almost yowled her head off when she heard he hadn't eaten in two days, and if Bluestar knew that someone put you on patrol without you eating more than a mouthful of prey, she'd confine you to your den for a quarter-moon. We have to take care of ourselves, kittypet. How do you expect to serve the Clan if you can barely walk?” 

“You're right.” Firepaw admitted after forcing the mouse down . “But it's hard to eat when everything in you is saying that it won't last. Thanks for the mouse. If you're still concerned tomorrow, feel free to watch me eat another one. Have a good time at the Gathering.” 

“You'll hear all about it when we eat tomorrow morning.” Sandpaw rebuffed playfully. 

Maybe it wouldn't take that long after all. 


	9. Chapter 9

Sure enough, Sandpaw woke him up with a large squirrel in her jaws. 

“If you don't finish it, I will. No need to waste prey.” 

He nodded and followed her out of the den. 

“What was the Gathering like?” He asked as they settled beside the warming rocks by the elder's den. They weren't very warm right then considering the lack of sunlight, but it was nice.  

“I didn't pay as much attention as I should have.” Sandpaw admitted begrudgingly. “Brokenstar is weird and half of ShadowClan look like a bunch of kits with warrior names. RiverClan tried to start something because Oakheart died, and no one has seen WindClan for the past couple Gatherings. You're better off experiencing it for yourself because Clan politics are confusing.” 

Firepaw nodded eagerly as he tucked into the squirrel. 

“You're probably right. Do you think that'll be anytime soon?” 

“Sure, when you improve on your training. It's an honor for ThunderClan cats because we treat it like going to the Moonstone.” 

Firepaw blinked. He hadn't forgotten about the glowing rock in the underground cave, but it had been so long since he's seen it that he could bump into it and not know until he ended up in StarClan. 

“What's the Moonstone?” He asked. 

“It's where medicine cats go to speak with StarClan and leaders go to receive their nine lives.” Sandpaw explain as she licked traces of squirrel from her mouth. “You're better off talking to Spottedleaf about that.” 

He chatted with Spottedleaf about what herbs were for what in the past couple days, but knowing how much he'd messed up with Sandstorm made him want to avoid the tortoiseshell medicine cat altogether. Then again, he had resolved to find out more about herbs, so maybe he would talk to Spottedleaf. 

Firepaw and Sandpaw basked in the early rays of the sun for approximately 50 heartbeats before they got to their paws and went about their days. 

“Thanks.” Firepaw muttered nervously. He shouldn't have to be told when to eat or how to sleep, but the battle was forever fresh on his mind, like it happened moments ago instead of days. It was a surprise that he'd so willingly choked down that squirrel. 

“I'll see you this evening.” She reminded him.

Sandpaw was serious about him eating properly. Who knew?

* * *

 

He got to the hollow pretty early after he asked Sandpaw to send Greypaw and Ravenpaw on their way. They arrived not too long before the sun was fully considered risen. Tigerclaw was there, and Lionheart wasn't far behind the apprentices. 

“We're practicing stalking today. Who can tell me the difference between hunting a rabbit and hunting a mouse?” Tigerclaw demanded sharply. Firepaw thought about telling the pair of warriors that he'd actually  _ caught _ a mouse, but decided against it. He might have already lived a life, but he didn't look a day past six moons. He'd have to put up with superior attitudes. 

“A mouse can feel your pawsteps where a rabbit can smell you, so step softly for a mouse and keep upwind for a rabbit.” 

“Very good, Ravenpaw.” Tigerclaw purred eerily. “Now show them how to stalk.” 

The black apprentice dropped into a hunting crouch and started to move, but his mentor leapt forward, outraged. 

“Keep your rear down, Ravenpaw, you look like a duck!” The large brown tabby snarled. Firepaw tried to focus on his own hunting crouch, but Tigerclaw's tail was waving nearby. It was literally a pounce away, and if he could just…. 

The senior warrior shot up with a yowl and Firepaw went sprawling across the hollow. 

“You insolent fool!” Tigerclaw roared over Lionheart's laughter. “When I said stalk, I didn't mean stalk  _ me _ !” 

“Since you're so… eager to practice hunting, why don't we try this on some real prey?” Lionheart snickered. 

All three apprentices looked up brightly.   
“I want each one of you to try catching real prey.” meowed Lionheart. “Ravenpaw, you look beside the Owltree. Greypaw, there might be something in that big bramble patch over there. And you, Firepaw, follow the rabbit track over that rise; you’ll find the dry bed of a winter stream. You may find something there.” 

He did find something. Firepaw found a mouse, his second during his time in ThunderClan, and on his own, too! He couldn't wait to tell the others! 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Firepaw gets himself into some trouble. And a wild favorite character appears!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, I'm still finding my feet when it comes to a routine but things should be settled down once I go back to school.

Two moons and he was nowhere near an expert, but a fox was on the loose and it was smothering his senses. There was also another cat…. He heard Greypaw before he saw the large tom, and it took all his strength to relax. He'd thought his friend was Yellowfang. 

They did both have grey fur, though Greypaw’s was lighter. This was around the time that he'd find the old grey queen, and he was looking forward to it. He swore to himself that he wouldn't make the mistake of feeding her. Not even in greenleaf. 

“I missed my vole because of you, furball! Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else? I'm almost sure that Bluestar wanted you to send some cat a message.” 

“I've got time.” Greypaw purred. “You should've seen your face.” He snorted. 

“I was about to shred you, you lucky rat!” Firepaw snapped. 

“Lighten up, Firepaw. Here, I'll help you make up for the vole you just missed.” 

“You should get going.” 

“C'mon, there's plenty of time! Quit being such a stifftail.” 

“I'm not a stifftail, but if you keep messing around, Lionheart will make sure  _ you _ are.”

“Too right, but I'll be fine. C'mon, it's so warm out we're bound to catch  _ something _ .” 

“Sure, whatever.” 

* * *

Despite the distraction, hunting was good. The pair caught a mouse and a thrush by the time they reached the Thunderpath border chasing a squirrel that they couldn't catch. Firepaw marveled at the shiny black surface. He hadn't seen a Thunderpath in a while, no need to, and he found himself creeping forward just as a monster came roaring past. The smell was awful, Greypaw rightly pointed out, but the vibrations they gave off were exciting and felt wonderful in a way he'd never appreciated before now.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of Greypaw's fearful yowling. A pair of eyes, steady and unblinking. A monster passed by. The gaze was gone. 

“What in the name of StarClan were you thinking, you mouse-brained fool?!” His grey friend roared, bowling him back toward the forest. 

“The vibrations were amazing.” The ginger tom breathed. “But it stank.” He added. “On the other paw, I saw a ShadowClan warrior.” 

“I'm going to go find that patrol, then. Good luck with your prey haul, and remember to tell Bluestar about the fox and the ShadowClan warrior.” 

Firepaw nodded and they parted ways. He wanted to see if the cat was still there, because if it was… 

Not for the second time that afternoon, he was knocked off his paws.

* * *

 

The fight with Yellowfang was rather pitiful, for a warrior-turned-medicine cat,but her stench told a different story. One of desperation, fear. Hunger. 

She eyes his prey and he snapped. 

“That's not for you.” He growled. “Can you walk?” 

“I got three good legs so you're not taking me anywhere I don't wanna go.” 

“That certainly can be arranged.” Tigerclaw...two moons and Firepaw still choked up at the sight of the huge brown tom. Luckily, they weren't alone. Bluestar was there, along with Greypaw and Darkstripe. This must have been the WindClan patrol. 

“What exactly was your plan, Firepaw? You certainly seem to be in no hurry.” His grey-furred mentor noticed. 

“I'd planned to find you and see what could be done with her. As you can see, she's not much of a threat.” 

“All enemy warriors are threats!” The leader snapped. “And what prey have you caught that you're so eager to give ours away?!” 

“Give-? You think I  _ fed _ her? I wouldn't dare!” He snarled, all the pain of his first life coming back to haunt him. “You and Lionheart and  _ Tigerclaw _ !” He spat out the name with as much ferocity as he could muster. “You all crammed it into my head that the Clan comes first!  _ What _ makes you think that I would feed an outsider without at least making sure there's enough food to go around first?!” 

“Well said, kittypet.” Yellowfang snorted. “And he's right. That nice big prey pile over there has been specifically marked ‘not for me.’ He said so himself. You ThunderClan cats sure know how to train your apprentices.” 

“Then state your business here, rogue.” 

“To get as far away from ShadowClan as possible. Brokenstar has ruined everything, and I cannot stand by and watch them fall to ruins. But that's a story for another day. For now, my business is to request asylum. And some herbs, if your medicine cat is willing to part with them.” 

“Marigold and cobwebs, for starters.” Firepaw snorted. “And all the mouse bile in the world.” 

“We'll see what we can do about that.” Bluestar agreed, wrinkling her nose.


	11. Chapter 11

As the patrol passed the sentries who guarded the camp entrance, the rest of ThunderClan came running to welcome their warriors home.   
Queens, kits, and elders crowded on either side, peering curiously at Yellowfang as she was led into camp. Some of the elders recognized the old she-cat, and word spread quickly through the Clan that this was ShadowClan’s medicine cat. A steady, jeering hum rose up around them.   
Yellowfang seemed deaf to the taunts. Firepaw couldn’t help admiring the way she limped with dignity through the corridor of stares and insults. He knew she was in a great deal of pain, and probably hungrier now that she smelled all the prey. He placed his catch on the pile and was greeted by Sandpaw. 

“Since when do we let ShadowClan cats in our camp?” She demanded. 

“Since one crashed into me looking like a rat chewed it up and didn't like the taste.” 

“Only you, Firepaw.” 

“Bluestar thought I fed her.” 

“Did you?” She asked, eyes blazing. 

“Of course not!” He snapped. 

“Good.” She insisted. “I'll see you tonight.” 

Firepaw no longer needed Sandpaw  prompting him to eat, but they shared meals more often than not. He dared to say that they were friends. 

He glanced around to see what was going on, and noticed Spottedleaf approaching the old, grizzled she-cat. 

“I know how to treat my own wounds, thank you.” Yellowfang grumbled. “Some herbs would be nice, but doubt I have anything that needs extra paws.” 

Spottedleaf nodded and went back to her den. Firepaw strained to hear what Bluestar and the senior warriors were discussing. 

Tigerclaw’s yowl sounded impatient. 

“It’s just too dangerous to bring an enemy warrior into the heart of ThunderClan! Now that she knows the camp, even the youngest ShadowClan kit will hear of it. We’ll have to move.”   
“Calm down, Tigerclaw,” Bluestar purred. “Why should we move? Yellowfang made her distaste for Brokenstar quite clear.”   
“Do you really believe that? What on earth was that foolish kittypet thinking of?” Tigerclaw spat.   
“Use your head for a moment, you mouse-brain.” The grey she-cat snorted airily. “Why would the ShadowClan medicine cat choose to leave her Clan? You seem to be afraid that Yellowfang will share our Clan secrets with ShadowClan, but have you thought about what ShadowClan secrets  _ she _ might share with  _ us _ ?”   
Firepaw could see by the way Tigerclaw’s fur began to flatten that Bluestar’s words made sense. The warrior nodded briefly, and then stalked off to take his share of the fresh-kill.   
Bluestar remained where she was. She looked out across the clearing, where some of the younger kits were fighting and tumbling playfully in the dust. Then she stood up and began to walk toward Firepaw. He stiffened. Would she rebuke him even though he managed to prove himself?   
But Bluestar walked straight past him, not even sparing him a glance. Her eyes were clouded with unknown distant thoughts. 

“Frostfur!” She called out as she headed for the nursery.   
The pure white she-cat was the only queen he hadn't heard mention of, but he remembered her well enough. She'd never spoken to him again after Brightheart came back savaged by the dogs. She slipped out of the bramble and inside, the mewling grew.

“Hush, kits,” Frostfur purred reassuringly. “I won’t be long.” 

She turned to her leader. 

“Is something wrong?”   
“Two of our apprentices have seen a fox in the area. Warn the other queens to guard the nursery carefully. And make sure all kits less than six moons stay visible within the camp until our warriors have driven it away.”   
Frostfur nodded. 

“I’ll pass on the warning, Bluestar.” She nodded disappeared into the nursery to quiet the crying kits.

Bluestar didn't really need to call the Clan together for what she was about to say. Everyone was curious.

“I’m sure you have all heard about the prisoner we brought back with us today,” Bluestar began. “But there is more still.” She glanced down at the grizzled she-cat who lay  beside the Highrock. “Can you hear me from there?” she asked.   
“I may be old, but I’m not deaf yet!” Yellowfang spat in reply.   
Bluestar nodded, pleased despite (or maybe because of) the hostile tone and continued. 

“Today I traveled with a patrol into WindClan territory. The air was filled with the scent of ShadowClan. Almost every tree had been sprayed by ShadowClan warriors, and we met no WindClan cats even though we journeyed deep into their territory.”   
Her words were met with silence. Firepaw saw confusion in the faces of the Clan cats.   
“Do you mean ShadowClan has chased them out?” called Smallear hesitantly.   
“We can’t be sure,” Bluestar meowed. “Certainly the scent of ShadowClan was everywhere. We found blood, too, and fur. There must have been a battle, though we found no bodies from either Clan.”   
A shocked yowl rose from the crowd in a single voice. Firepaw felt the cats around him stiffen with shock and fury. Never before had one Clan driven another from its hunting grounds.   
“How can WindClan have been driven out?” One-eye croaked hoarsely. “ShadowClan is fierce, but WindClan is many. They have lived in the uplands for generations. Why have they been chased out now?” She shook her head anxiously, whiskers trembling.   
“I don’t know the answers to any of your questions,” meowed Bluestar. “It is well known that ShadowClan has recently appointed a new leader, following the death of Raggedstar. Brokenstar gave no hint of any threat when we met him at the last Gathering.”

_ Right _ … Firepaw scoffed. Brokenstar was dangerous, alright. And Sandpaw had probably been onto something when she said the warriors at the Gathering looked like kits.    
“Perhaps Yellowfang has answers?” snarled Darkstripe. “After all, she is of ShadowClan!”

_ Oh for StarClan’s sake…  _   
“I may have left Brokenstar's ShadowClan behind, but I am no traitor!  _ Nothing _ would make me share any secrets with a brute like you!” growled Yellowfang, glaring at Darkstripe. The ThunderClan warrior moved forward, ears flat, eyes closed to slits and ready for a fight. Because clearly  _ that _ would solve everything.   
“Stop!” yowled Bluestar.   
Darkstripe immediately halted in his tracks, even though Yellowfang goaded him on with blazing eyes and a ferocious hiss.   
“That’s enough!” Bluestar growled. “This situation is too serious for us to be fighting among ourselves. ThunderClan must be prepared. From this moonrise onward, warriors will travel in larger groups. Everyone else must remain close to the camp. Patrols will travel the boundary edges more frequently, and all the kits will stay in the nursery.”   
The cats below her nodded in agreement. 

“As for our newcomer, Yellowfang will be allowed to stay here until she has recovered her strength. We are warriors, not savages. Furthermore, she is a medicine cat, and a fine one. She  _ will _ be respected.”   
“But the Clan cannot support Yellowfang,” Darkstripe protested. “We have too many mouths to feed already.” He snapped, glaring at Firepaw.   
“Yeah!” Greypaw whispered. “And some of them are bigger than others!”   
“I don’t need anyone to  _ care _ for me!” spat Yellowfang. “And I’ll split open whoever bothers to try!”   
“Friendly, isn’t she?” Greypaw murmured.   
Firepaw flicked the tip of his tail in silent agreement. There were muffled meows from the other warriors as they grudgingly recognized the enemy warrior’s fighting spirit.   
Bluestar ignored the murmuring. 

“Firepaw, since it was your idea to bring her into the camp, it will be your responsibility to care for Yellowfang. You will hunt for her and tend her wounds. You will fetch fresh bedding and clear away her dirt. Your fellow apprentices are more than welcome to help you if they are willing.”   
“Yes, Bluestar,” mewed Firepaw, dipping his head. 

“The meeting is over. I would like to speak to my senior warriors alone now.” 

With that, she jumped down from the Highrock and marched toward her den.   
Lionheart followed her. The other Clan cats began to move away from the Highrock. One or two wished him luck looking after Yellowfang. Firepaw felt so dazed by Bluestar’s announcement that he just nodded blankly. Longtail padded up to him. The vee-shaped nick that Firepaw had cut into the tip of his ear still showed.   
The young warrior drew back his whiskers into an ugly snarl. 

“Well, I hope you’ll think twice about bringing strays back into the camp next time,” he sneered. “Like I said earlier, outsiders  _ always _ bring trouble.” 

“If you're so concerned about Yellowfang causing trouble, perhaps  _ you _ should be aiding Firepaw to look after her.” Whitestorm came out of  _ absolutely nowhere _ , and Longtail jolted. Firepaw dipped his head. 

“Thank you, but I'll be fine with Yellowfang. She knows so much about herbs that she might give Longtail a stomach ache for speaking out of turn.” 

Whitestorm chuckled lightly and nodded. 

“May StarClan walk in your pawsteps.” He purred as he disappeared into Bluestar's den. 

* * *

 

“I’d go and see to Yellowfang, if I were you,” whispered Greypaw, as Longtail strode away. “She’s doesn’t look very happy.”

Firepaw glanced over at the old she-cat. She was still lying beside the Highrock, glaring at him.

“Well, here goes,” the ginger apprentice meowed.“Wish me luck!”

“You’ll need the whole of StarClan on your side for this one,” answered Greypaw. “Call out if you need an extra paw or two. If she looks like she’s going to have you, I’ll sneak up behind her and whack her on the head with a stiff rabbit.” He joked.

Firepaw purred with amusement and trotted off toward Yellowfang. His cheerfulness quickly evaporated as he neared the injured molly. She was clearly in a terrible mood, as when he approached she hissed a warning and showed her teeth. 

“Stop right there, kittypet!”

Firepaw sighed. It seemed he was in for a fight. He was still hungry, and beginning to feel tired. He longed to curl up in his nest for an afternoon nap. He recalled why he was so irritated with her as soon as she spoke. 

_ She melted around Cinderpaw _ , he reminded himself. And in the end, she hadn't regretted joining ThunderClan. 

“You can call me what you like,” he mewed wearily. “but I'm going to following Bluestar’s orders.”

“You are a kittypet, though, aren’t you?” Yellowfang wheezed.

_ She’s tired too, _ Firepaw noticed. There was less fire in her voice, although her spite was strong as ever.

“I used to live with Twolegs when I was a kitten,” Firepaw replied calmly. He'd squished most of the kittypet jokes when he leapt into a battle without any training, when he fought Longtail on the first night.

“Your mother a kittypet? Your father a kittypet?” She sneered.

“Yes, they were.” Firepaw looked down at the ground, scowling. 

Being an outsider was the one label he'd never been able to shake. Even when he became leader, there were those who saw him as unfit because he wasn't born into ThunderClan. It was bad enough that some of his own Clan still hated him. He certainly didn’t need Yellowfang egging them on.

Yellowfang seemed to take his silence as an invitation to go on. 

“Kittypet blood ain't the same as warrior blood. Why don’t you run home to your Twolegs now instead of looking after me? It’s humiliating, being fussed over by a lowborn cat like you!”

Firepaw rolled his eyes. 

“You’d still feel humiliated if I were warrior-born.” He pointed out. “You’d feel ashamed whether I was a precious she-cat from your own Clan or a wretched Twoleg that picked you off the ground.” He lashed his tail from side to side. “It’s the fact that you need to rely on any cat that you find so  _ humiliating _ !”

Yellowfang stared at him, orange eyes wide.

“You're stuck with me until you get better, so whatever ants crawled in your fur, by all means, let me know because I'm pretty sure mouse bile works on them too.” He snapped. 

Yellowfang laughed in response, and he narrowed his eyes. 

“You have spirit, kittypet,” Yellowfang croaked, stopping at last. 

“Now, I’m tired and my leg hurts. I need sleep and something to put on this wound. Go and find that pretty little medicine cat of yours and ask her for some herbs. I think you’ll find a goldenseal poultice would help. And, while you’re at it, I wouldn’t mind  a few poppy seeds to chew on. The pain is killing me!”

Firepaw nodded and raced away.

* * *

“I’ve got most of those in my den,” replied Spottedleaf when Firepaw told her what Yellowfang asked her for.

“You know that poppyseeds help you sleep. Goldenseal is a bit like marigold. If she dresses her wound with that, it’ll keep off any infection. Wait here.”

“Thanks,” Firepaw mewed as the medicine cat disappeared back into her den.

Spottedleaf emerged from the gloom and dropped a bundle folded in leaves by Firepaw’s feet. 

“Tell Yellowfang to go easy on the poppy seeds. I don’t want her to be completely numb. Pain can be useful, because it can help me judge how well she is healing.”

Firepaw nodded and picked up the herbs with his teeth. 

“Thanks, Spottedleaf!” He mewed through the mouthful of leaves, then headed back through the fern tunnel into the main clearing.

Tigerclaw was sitting outside the warriors’ den, watching him closely. As Firepaw trotted over to Yellowfang, carrying the herbs, he could feel the amber-eyed stare burning the fur on the back of his neck. He turned his head and looked at Tigerclaw curiously. The warrior narrowed his eyes and looked away. Firepaw dropped the bundle beside Yellowfang.

“Good,” she meowed. “Now, before you leave me in peace, find me something to eat. I’m starving!” 


	12. Chapter 12

Three days later, he had to wake Greypaw for a training session.

“You'll be late if you're not up soon.” Firepaw mumbled through a mouthful of the grey apprentice’s tail. Greypaw awoke with a loud yowl as his tail hit the floor. Good. That meant everyone else was up as well.

“Great StarClan, Greypaw, when I get my claws on you-!” Dustpaw snapped.

“Firepaw attacked me!” Greypaw wailed.

The morning was warm. Firepaw could see a deep blue sky through the leaves and branches that overhung the camp. Today, however, a heavy dew glistened on the fern fronds and sparkled on the grass. Firepaw sniffed the air. Greenleaf was drawing to a close, and soon it would start to feel colder.

  
He lay down and rolled in the earth beside the tree stump, stretching his legs and tipping his head back to rub it on the cool ground. Then he flipped over onto his side, and looked across the clearing to see if   
Yellowfang was awake yet. She had been given a resting place at the other end of the fallen tree where the elders gathered to eat.

  
Her nest lay tucked against its mossy trunk, out of hearing of the elders, but in full view of the warriors’ den across the clearing. Firepaw could just see a mound of pale gray fur, rising and falling in time to a gentle rumble of sleep.

  
Greypaw trotted out of the den behind him, followed by Sandpaw and Dustpaw. Ravenpaw appeared last, with a nervous glance around the clearing before he emerged fully into the open.

  
“Don’t worry, Firepaw,” murmured Greypaw. “Bluestar will have you back in training before long.”

“Perhaps she thinks you're better suited in tending to the sick,” Sandpaw offered. “You do hang around Spottedleaf an awful lot.”

“What is Whitestorm teaching you today?” Firepaw mewed.

“We’re doing battle training today.” Sandpaw replied proudly.

“Lionheart’s taking me to the Great Sycamore to practice my climbing. I should go now.”

“I’ll come with you to the top of the ravine,” mewed Firepaw. “I have to catch breakfast for   
Yellowfang. Coming, Ravenpaw? Tigerclaw must have something planned for you.”

Ravenpaw sighed and nodded, then followed Greypaw and Firepaw as they trotted out of the camp. Ravenpaw seemed far less enthusiastic when it came to warrior training, and Firepaw guessed that he was still scared of Tigerclaw. 

That, as well as the fact that Ravenpaw was a naturally skittish cat around anyone older than him, made Firepaw nervous for the black tom. He didn't want his friend to leave, but it seemed like leaving was the best option for Ravenpaw.

* * *

"Here,” mewed Firepaw. He dropped a large mouse and a chaffinch onto the ground beside Yellowfang.

“About time,” she growled. The she-cat had still been sleeping when Firepaw had entered the camp after his hunting trip. But the smell of fresh-kill must have woken her, for she pulled herself into a sitting position.

She dropped her head and hungrily gulped down Firepaw’s offerings. She had developed a massive appetite as her strength returned. Her wound was healing well, but her temper remained as fierce and unpredictable as ever. 

“The base of my tail itches like fury, but I can’t reach it. Give it a wash, will you?” She groused when she finished her meal.

With an inward shudder, Firepaw crouched down and searched her pelt. Flea-cracking had never been his favorite chore.

As he worked, he noticed a gang of small kits tumbling in the dusty earth nearby. They were mauling each other and play-fighting, sometimes quite viciously.

Yellowfang, who had closed her eyes as Firepaw groomed her, half opened one eye to observe the kits as they played. To his surprise, Firepaw felt her spine stiffen beneath his teeth. He listened for a moment to the tiny yelps and squeaks of the kits. 

“Feel my teeth, Brokenstar!” mewed one small tabby.

He leaped onto the back of a little gray-and-white kit, who was pretending to be the ShadowClan leader. The two kits bundled toward the Highrock. Suddenly the gray-and-white kit gave a mighty heave and flung the tabby from his back. With a startled squeak, the little tabby cannoned into Yellowfang’s side. Instantly the old she-cat leaped to her feet, fur on end and spat violently.

“Stay away from me, you scrap of fur!” she hissed.  
The tabby kit took one look at the furious cat, turned tail, and ran. He hid himself behind a Brindleface, who was staring furiously across the clearing at Yellowfang.

The gray-and-white kit froze where he stood. Then, paw by paw, he cautiously backed away toward the safety of the nursery.

Yellowfang’s reaction had shocked Firepaw. He thought he’d seen her at her most vicious when they fought after their first meeting, but her eyes burned with a new rage now.

“Like _that_ was necessary.” The ginger apprentice scowled. “The kits are probably finding it hard being confined to camp,” he informed. “They’re getting restless.”

“I don’t care how restless they are,” growled Yellowfang. “Just keep them away from me!”

“Don’t you like kits? Did you never have kits of your own?” He asked, knowing the truth despite what she'd say.

“Don’t you know medicine cats don’t have kits?” hissed Yellowfang furiously.

“But I heard you were a warrior before that,” Firepaw ventured.

Was she forever bitter about the mistakes she made, the secrets she kept up to her deathbed?

“I have no kits!” Yellowfang spat. She snatched her tail away from him and sat up.

Her voice suddenly lowered, and she sounded almost wistful.

“Accidents seem to happen to kits when I’m around them.” She murmured.

Her orange eyes clouded with emotion. She laid her chin flat on her forepaws and stared ahead. Firepaw watched her shoulders sink as she released a long, silent sigh.

“I'll get some mouse bile. There are a few ticks I can't get on my own.” Firepaw told Yellowfang. The grey she-cat nodded almost drowsily.

“You do that, kittypet.” She muttered.

* * *

 

Firepaw walked toward the fern tunnel. Cats crossed the clearing around him, carrying sticks and twigs in their teeth. While he had been grooming Yellowfang, the camp had grown active.

It had been like this every day since Bluestar had announced WindClan’s disappearance. The queens were weaving twigs and leaves into a dense green wall around the sides of the nursery, making sure that the narrow entrance was the only way in and out of the bramble patch.

Other cats were working at the edges of the camp, filling in any spaces in the thick undergrowth. He was reminded painfully of how Dustpelt and Cloudtail had taken charge of keeping their camp fortified as they got older. Leaky den? Hey Dustpelt. Loose twigs in the barrier that made up the entrance? Dustpelt was there. Wanted more moss for your nest? You'd get it yourself but Dustpelt sure could point you in the right direction.

Firepaw had believed that every cat had their strengths. Cloudtail was a brilliant tracker, Sandstorm was the best hunter, Dustpelt was the one to go to about camp defenses. Hollyleaf kept the Clan on track rule-wise. Jayfeather was grumpy as ever, but if you had an emotional problem, he was the cat with a solution. Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw worked best as a team. Leafpool noticed things that not everyone else did.

He snapped back to himself and recognized that even the elders were busy, scraping out a hole in the ground. Warriors filed steadily past, piling pieces of fresh-kill beside them, ready to be stored inside the newly dug hole. There was an air of quiet concentration, a determination to make the Clan as secure and well supplied as possible.

If ShadowClan made a move on their territory, ThunderClan would shelter inside the camp. They would not let themselves be driven from their hunting grounds as easily as WindClan had been.

Darkstripe, Longtail, Willowpelt, and Dustpaw were waiting silently at the camp entrance. Their eyes were fixed on the opening to the gorse tunnel. A patrol was just returning, dusty and paw-sore. As soon as the warriors entered the camp, Darkstripe and his companions approached and exchanged words with them. Then they slipped quickly out of the camp. ThunderClan’s borders were not being left unguarded for a moment.

Firepaw headed down the fern tunnel that led to Spottedleaf’s den. As he entered the clearing, he could see Spottedleaf was preparing some sweet-smelling herbs.

“Can I have some mouse bile for Yellowfang’s ticks?” Firepaw mewed.

“In a moment,” replied Spottedleaf, pawing two piles of herbs together and mixing the fragrant heap with one delicately extended claw. He didn't recognize those.

“You seem rather busy?” Firepaw offered, settling down on a warm patch of earth.

“I want to be prepared for any casualties,”Spottedleaf murmured, glancing up at him with clear amber eyes.

Firepaw met her gaze for a moment before she turned her attention back to the herbs. He waited, content to sit quietly and watch her work. Between her and Yellowfang, his herb knowledge was growing rapidly. Maybe one day he'd be able to put it to use. Hopefully not, though. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He was no medicine cat.

“Right,” she mewed at last. “What was it you wanted? Mouse bile?”

“Yes, please.” Firepaw stood up and stretched each back leg in turn. The sun had warmed his fur and made him feel sleepy.

Spottedleaf bounded into her den and brought out a strip of bark with bile-soaked moss on the other end.

“Don’t get any in your mouth, or you’ll have a foul taste for days.” She reminded him. “Press it onto the ticks and then wash your paws—in a stream, not with your tongue!”

Firepaw nodded and trotted back to Yellowfang.

“Hold still!” he mewed to the old she-cat. Carefully he used his forepaws to smother each tick.

“You may as well clear away my dirt now your paws are already foul!” she meowed when he had finished. “I’m going to take a nap.” She yawned, revealing blackened and broken teeth. The warmth of the day was making her sleepy too.

“Then you can go and do whatever it is you apprentices do,” she murmured.

When Firepaw had cleared away Yellowfang’s dirt, he made his way to the gorse tunnel. He was keen to get to the stream and rinse his paws.

“Firepaw!” a voice called from the side of the clearing. Firepaw turned to see Halftail.

“Where are you off to?” meowed the old cat curiously. “You ought to be helping with the   
preparations.”

“I’ve just been putting mouse bile on Yellowfang’s ticks,” replied Firepaw.

Amusement flickered through Halftail’s whiskers. “So now you’re off to the nearest stream! Well, don’t come back without fresh-kill. We need as much as we can find.”

“Yes, Halftail,” Firepaw meowed.

He made his way out of the camp and up the side of the ravine. He trotted down to the stream where he and Greypaw hunted before he found Yellowfang. Without hesitating he jumped down into the cold, clear water. It came up to his haunches, and wet his belly fur. The shock made him gasp, and he shivered.

A rustle in the bushes above him made him look up, although the familiar scent that reached his nose told him there was nothing to be alarmed about.

“What are you doing in there?” Greypaw and Ravenpaw were standing looking at him as if he were mouse-brained.

“Mouse bile.” Firepaw grimaced. “Where are Lionheart and Tigerclaw?”

“They’ve gone to join the next patrol,” answered Greypaw. “They ordered us to spend the rest of the afternoon hunting.”

“Halftail told me the same thing,” Firepaw mewed, flinching as a chilly current of water rushed around his paws.

“Everyone’s busy back at camp. You’d think we were about to be attacked at any moment.” He climbed up onto the bank, dripping.

“Who says we won’t be?” mewed Ravenpaw, his eyes flicking from side to side as if he expected an enemy patrol to leap out of the bushes at any time. Firepaw looked at the heap of fresh-kill that was piled beside the two apprentices.

“Looks like you’ve done all right today,” he mewed.

“Yeah,” mewed Greypaw proudly. “And we’ve still got the rest of the afternoon to hunt. Do you want to join us?”

“You bet!” Firepaw purred. He gave himself a final shake, then bounded into the undergrowth after his friends.

* * *

 

Firepaw could tell that the cats back at camp were impressed with the amount of prey the three apprentices had managed to catch during their afternoon hunt. They were welcomed back with high tails and friendly nuzzles.

It took them four journeys to carry their catch to the storage hole the elders had dug. Lionheart and Tigerclaw had just returned with their patrol as Firepaw, Greypaw, and Ravenpaw carried their last load into the camp.

“Well done, you three,” meowed Lionheart. “I hear you’ve been busy. The store is almost full. You might as well add that last lot to the pile of fresh-kill for tonight. And take some of it back to your den with you. You deserve a feast!”

Thethree apprentices flicked their tails with delight.

  
“I hope you’ve not been neglecting Yellowfang with all this hunting, Firepaw,” Tigerclaw growled warningly.

  
Firepaw shook his head impatiently, eager to get away. He was _starving._  He had yet to eat a morsel, since he was hunting for the Clan. None of them had.

They trotted away and dropped the last of their catch on the fresh-kill that already lay at the center of the clearing. Then each of them took a piece and carried it back to their tree stump. The den was empty.

“Where are Dustpaw and Sandpaw?” asked Ravenpaw.

“They must still be out on patrol,” Firepaw guessed.   
They ate their fill and lay back to wash. The cool evening air was welcome after the heat of the day.

“Hey! Guess what!” mewed Greypaw suddenly. "Ravenpaw managed to squeeze a compliment out of Tigerclaw this morning!”

Both toms winced when the name fell from their friend's mouth so casually. Ravenpaw gave him what he hoped was a reassuring glance.

“What’d you do to please Tigerclaw? Fly?” Firepaw scoffed, trying to lighten the mood.

“Well, go on, tell him what you did.” Greypaw encouraged.

“I caught an old crow.” Ravenpaw mumbled.

“But it was huge,” added Greypaw. “Even _Tigerclaw_ couldn’t find fault with that! He’s been in such a bad mood since Bluestar took you on as her apprentice.” He licked his paw thoughtfully for a moment. “Hang on, make that since Lionheart was made deputy.”

Firepaw and Ravenpaw winced in harmony.

“He’s just worried about ShadowClan, and the extra patrols,” mewed Ravenpaw, hastily. “You should try not to annoy him.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud yowl from the other side of the clearing.

“Oh, no.” Firepaw groaned, getting to his paws. “I forgot to take Yellowfang her share!”

“I'll handle it.” Greypaw offered.

Firepaw nodded his thanks and flopped back down, exhausted.

Greypaw took the two juiciest mice from the pile and started off, only to be stopped by Tigerclaw.

“If I remember correctly.” The large dark tabby growled. “Taking care of that old hag was the kittypet’s job.”

“I also said that anyone who wished to could help him.” The grey leader responded sharply. “Like with all our elders. Perhaps _you_ should be the one to take those mice to Yellowfang.”

A loud yowl from the previously mentioned she-cat sent him a few pawsteps into the air. Tigerclaw snatched the mice from Greypaw.

“I'm coming, you sack of bones!” He snarled.


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning was a dull end to an unpleasant night, and Firepaw hopped up, fur fluffed out. Yellowfang couldn't be that comfortable in this wet weather. He wondered if there was an herb to soothe old bones. 

“Has it been raining all night?” The old grey she-cat groaned. 

“Since just after moonhigh.” Firepaw confirmed. “You should move your nest closer to the nursery.” He offered. 

“What, and be kept awake all night by  _ kits _ ? I'd rather be wet.” She grumbled.

“Then at least get some dry bedding, but we can't give you dry bedding every time it rains. We'll run out of moss quicker than you can say ‘mouse.’” 

“Yeah, yeah. Go get my moss.” 

He considered the fact that she didn't call him out of his name a reward. 

  
  


He almost ran into Speckletail, who was passing stiffly through the light rain. 

“Do you want something with Yellowfang?” He asked after they mewed their respective greetings. 

“Stars, no. That temper is going to get her in trouble with the wrong cat someday.” The old queen insisted. 

To be honest, Firepaw is pretty sure that's more than already happened. 

“I came to find you. Bluestar said something about an assessment.” 

Firepaw yipped with joy, thanked Specketail, and raced to Highrock. 

“Is it true? Am I actually getting an assessment? Can I show you my battle moves? I pounced on Tigerclaw's tail once. Lionheart was there, he-!” 

Bluestar swiped her tail across Firepaw's mouth. 

“Are you quite done, little one?” She purred, amused. 

“Not really, but I'm calmer.” He murmured around her thick fur. 

She removed her tail and stared at Firepaw.

“How is Yellowfang today?” 

“Well, it's raining so her bedding's wet. I think Spottedleaf said something about bones aching in the cold and the rain, so I want to see if there's an herb for that. Maybe the elders can have some too.” 

“I'm surprised you don't already know.” The grey leader purred fondly. “You have been asking plenty of questions. Are you sure you wish to be a warrior?” She teased. 

Firepaw nodded vigorously. 

“I'll be the best warrior there is!” He insisted. “Right alongside you and Lionheart and Whitestorm.” He chirped. 

“I'm sure you will. Speaking of our best warriors, Tigerclaw will be watching you complete the tasks assigned. I'll make sure someone sees about the bedding and I'll ask Spottedleaf for the herbs myself. The elders do deserve their days free of aching bones.” 

“Thank you, Bluestar! I won't let you down!” 

“Go join your companions, young one. I suspect they're waiting for you.” 

Firepaw dipped his head and dashed off.  Bluestar was right; Greypaw and Ravenpaw were both waiting for him by their favorite tree stump. Greypaw looked stiff and uncomfortable, his long fur clumped by the dampness of the air. Ravenpaw was pacing around the tree stump, lost in thought, the white tip of his tail twitching.   
“So, you’re joining us today!” Greypaw called as Firepaw approached. “Some day, huh?” He shook himself roughly to get rid of the clinging wetness.   
“Yes. Bluestar told me that Tigerclaw is going to assess us today. Are Sandpaw and Dustpaw coming too?”   
“Whitestorm and Darkstripe took them out on patrol. I suppose Tigerclaw is going to look at them later,” Greypaw answered.   
“Come on! We should get going,” urged Ravenpaw. He had stopped pacing and now hovered beside them anxiously.   
“Fine by me,” mewed Greypaw. “Hopefully some exercise will warm me up a bit!”   
The three cats trotted through the gorse track and out of the camp. They hurried to the sandy hollow. Tigerclaw had not arrived, so they hung around in the shelter of a pine tree, their fur fluffed up against the chill.   
“Are you worried about the assessment?” Firepaw asked Ravenpaw, as the young cat padded backward and forward with quick, nervous pawsteps. “There’s no need to be. You’re Tigerclaw’s apprentice, after all.   
When he reports back to Bluestar, he’s going to want to tell her how good you are.”   
“You can never tell with Tigerclaw,” mewed Ravenpaw, still pacing.   
“For StarClan’s sake, sit down,” Greypaw grumbled. “At this rate you’ll be worn out before we begin!”   
By the time Tigerclaw arrived, the sky had changed. The clouds looked less like thick gray fur, and more like the soft white balls of down that queens used to line the nests of their newborns. Blue skies couldn’t be far behind, but the breeze that brought the softer clouds carried a fresh chill.   
Tigerclaw greeted them briskly and launched straight into the exercise details. “Lionheart and I have spent the last few weeks trying to teach you how to hunt decently,” he meowed. “Today you’ll have a chance to show me how much you’ve learned. Each of you will take a different route and hunt as much prey as possible, and whatever you catch will be added to the supplies in the camp.”

The three apprentices looked at one another, nervous and excited. Firepaw felt his heart beat faster at the prospect of a challenge.  
“Ravenpaw, you will follow the trail beyond the Great Sycamore as far as the Snakerocks. That should be easy enough for your pitiful skills. You, Greypaw,” Tigerclaw continued, “will take the route along the stream, as far as the Thunderpath.”  
“Great,” scowled Greypaw. “Wet paws for me!” Tigerclaw’s stare silenced him.  
“And finally you, _Firepaw_. What a _shame_ your great mentor couldn’t be here today to witness your performance for herself.” He grumbled. “ _You_ shall take the route through the Tallpines, past the Treecut place, to the woods beyond.”  
Firepaw nodded, frantically tracing the route in his head.  
“And remember,” Tigerclaw finished, fixing them all with his pale-eyed stare, “I’ll be watching all of you.”  
Ravenpaw was the first to sprint away toward the Snakerocks. Tigerclaw took a different track into the woods, leaving Greypaw and Firepaw alone in the hollow, trying to guess who Tigerclaw would follow first.  
“I don’t know why he thinks Snakerocks is an easy route!” snorted Greypaw. “The place is crawling with adders. Birds and mice _stay_ _away_ from there because there are so many snakes!”  
“Ravenpaw’ll have to spend his whole time trying not to get bitten,” Firepaw agreed worriedly.  
“Oh, he’ll be okay,” scoffed Greypaw. “Not even an adder would be fast enough to catch Ravenpaw at the moment, he’s so jumpy. I’d better get going. See you back here later on. Good luck!”  
Greypaw raced off toward the stream. Firepaw paused to sniff the air, then bounded up the side of the hollow and began to head for the Tallpines. It felt strange to be going in this direction, toward the Twoleg place he had been raised in. Cautiously Firepaw crossed the narrow path into the pine forest. He looked through the straight rows of trees, across the flat forest floor, alert for the sight and scent of prey.  
A movement caught his eye. It was a mouse, scrabbling through the pine needles. Remembering his first lesson, Firepaw dropped into the stalking position, keeping his weight in his haunches, his paws light on the ground. The technique worked perfectly. The mouse didn’t detect Firepaw until his final leap. He caught it with one paw and killed it swiftly. Then he buried it, so that he could pick it up on his return journey.  
Firepaw traveled a little farther into the Tallpines. The ground here was deeply rutted by the tracks of the huge Twoleg monster that tore down the trees. Firepaw took a deep breath, his mouth open. The monster’s acid breath had not touched the air here for a while. Firepaw followed the deep tracks, jumping across the ruts. They were half-filled with rain, which made him feel thirsty. He was tempted to stop and take a few mouthfuls, but he hesitated. One lap of that muddy trench water and he’d taste the monster’s foul-smelling tracks for days.  
He decided to wait. Perhaps there would be a rainwater puddle beyond the Tallpines. He hurried onward through the trees and crossed the Twoleg path on the far boundary.  
He was back amid the thick undergrowth of oak woods. He moved onward until he found a puddle and lapped up a few mouthfuls of the fresh water. Firepaw’s fur began to prickle with some extra awareness. He recognized sounds and scents familiar from his old watching place on the fence post, and knew instantly where he was. These were the woods that bordered the Twolegplace. He must be very close to his old home now.  
Ahead Firepaw could smell Twolegs and hear their voices, loud and raucous like crows. It was a group of young Twolegs, playing in the woods. Firepaw crouched and peered ahead through the ferns. The sounds were distant enough to be safe. He changed direction, skirting the noises and making sure he wasn't seen. Firepaw stayed alert and watchful, but not just for Twolegs—Tigerclaw might be somewhere nearby. He thought he heard a twig snap in the bushes behind him. He sniffed the air, but smelled nothing new. 

Was he being watched now? he wondered.   
Out of the corner of his eye, Firepaw sensed movement. At first he thought it was Tigerclaw’s dark brown fur, but then he saw a flash of white. He stopped, crouched, and inhaled deeply. The smell was unfamiliar; it was a cat, but not a  _ ThunderClan _ cat. Firepaw felt his fur bristle. He was more than willing to chase an intruder out!   
Firepaw watched the creature moving through the undergrowth. He could see its outline clearly as the newcomer skittered between the ferns. Firepaw waited for him to wander nearer. He crouched lower, ginger tail waving back and forth in slow rhythm. As the black-and-white cat neared, Firepaw rocked his haunches from side to side as he prepared to spring. One more heartbeat; then he leaped.   
The black-and-white cat jumped into the air, terrified, and raced away through the trees. Firepaw gave chase.   
_ It’s a kittypet! _ He snorted as he raced through the undergrowth, smelling its fear-scent.   
He was closing in rapidly on the fleeing feline, who had slowed their headlong rush, preparing to scramble up the wide, mossy trunk of a fallen tree. With blood roaring in his ears, Firepaw leaped onto their back in a single bound. Firepaw could feel the cat struggling beneath him as the intruder let out a desperate and terrified yowl.   
Firepaw released his grip and backed away. The black-and-white cat cringed at the foot of the fallen tree, trembling, and looked up at him. Firepaw snorted. This soft, plump house cat, with its round eyes and narrow face, looked very different from the lean, broad-headed cats Firepaw lived with now. And yet something about this cat seemed familiar.   
Firepaw stared harder. He sniffed, drawing in the other cat’s scent.

**I** **_barely_ ** **recognize the smell** , he thought, searching his memory.   
Then it came to him.   
“Smudge?!” he meowed out loud.   
“H-ho-how d-d-do you know my n-name?” stammered Smudge, still crouching.   
“I'm sorry, old friend. I told you once that I would never forget you.” Firepaw meowed.   
The house cat looked confused.

“I went by Rusty once. We were kittens together. I lived in the garden next to you!” Firepaw reminded him. The black-and-white tom scowled. 

“You're far too skinny to be Rusty. And you changed your name? I reckon you found those wildcats, then.” 

“I sure did.” Firepaw purred. “And they named me after my-.” He went still. Tigerclaw? Or prey? 

Tigerclaw wouldn't let himself be heard. 

Sure enough, a squirrel was about to climb a tree. Firepaw crouched and crept toward it, leaping to stun it before delivering a nip to the back of its neck. He thanked StarClan for the prey and buried his catch by the tree. 

“Wow.” Smudge breathed. “You're really one of them.” He murmured. Firepaw nodded. 

“I am. And I'm called Firepaw.”

“For your pelt. That's cool! I bet you're pretty useful in the fall. Everything's orange in the forest.” 

Smudge hadn't noticed, but both he and Firepaw lowered their voices. Firepaw intentionally and Smudge unconsciously. 

“I haven't been here that long, old friend. It really is good to see you well, but you can't come here anymore. This is wildcat territory, and if someone catches you when I'm not here, you'll get shredded worse than I’d ever dare.” 

Smudge nodded. 

“I'll tell the other housecats about the forest. I'm glad you like it here, Rusty. You always were pretty wild.”

“Have a good life, Smudge. Make some new friends.”

The two toms nodded at each other and Firepaw waited until the black-and-white tom was back on a fence before he dug up his squirrel and moved on. Now he just had to catch more prey and this would be the best day ever!


	14. Chapter 14

Firepaw returned with the mouse, the squirrel, and the chaffinch gripped firmly between his teeth. He dropped it in front of Tigerclaw, who stood waiting in the hollow.

“You’re the first one back,” meowed the warrior.

“Yeah, but I’ve got loads more prey to fetch,” Firepaw mewed quickly. “I buried it back—”

“I know exactly what you did,” Tigerclaw growled. “I’ve been watching you.”

A swish of bushes announced Greypaw’s return. He was carrying a small squirrel in his mouth, which he dropped beside Firepaw’s chaffinch. “Yuck!” he spat. “Squirrels are too furry. I’ll be picking hairs out of my teeth all evening.”

Tigerclaw paid no attention to Greypaw’s grumbling. “Ravenpaw’s late,” he observed. “We’ll give him a bit longer and then return to camp.”

“But what if he’s been bitten by an adder?” Firepaw protested.

“Then it’s his own fault,” Tigerclaw replied coldly. “There’s no room for fools in ThunderClan.”

They waited in silence. Greypaw and Firepaw exchanged glances, worried about Ravenpaw. Tigerclaw sat motionless, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

Firepaw was the first to scent Ravenpaw’s arrival. He jumped to his paws as the black cat leaped into the clearing, looking unusually pleased with himself. Dangling from his mouth was the long, diamond-patterned body of an adder.

“Ravenpaw! Are you okay?” Firepaw called.

“Hey!” meowed Greypaw, rushing forward to admire Ravenpaw’s catch. “Did that _bite_ you?”

“I was too quick for it!” Ravenpaw purred loudly. Then he caught Tigerclaw’s eye and fell silent.

Tigerclaw fixed all three excited apprentices with a cold stare.

“Come on,” he said shortly. “Let’s collect the rest of your prey and get back to camp.”

Firepaw, Greypaw, and Ravenpaw entered the camp, strolling behind Tigerclaw. Their impressive day’s catch hung from their mouths, although Ravenpaw kept tripping over his dead snake. As they emerged from the gorse into the camp, a group of young kits scrambled out of the nursery to watch them pass.

“Look!” Firepaw heard one of them say. “Apprentices, just back from hunting!” He recognized the little tabby Yellowfang had hissed at the day before.

Sitting next to him was a fluffy gray kit, no more than two moons old. A tiny black kit and a small tortoiseshell stood beside them.

“Isn’t that the kittypet, Firepaw?” squeaked the gray kit.

“Yeah! Look at his orange fur!” mewed the black one.

“They say he’s a good hunter,” the tortoiseshell added. “He looks a bit like Lionheart. Do you suppose he’s as good as him?”

“I can’t wait to start my training,” mewed the tabby. “I’m going to be the best warrior ThunderClan has ever seen!”

Firepaw lifted his chin, feeling proud at the kits’ admiring comments. He followed his two friends into the center of the clearing.

“An _adder_!” Greypaw mewed again, as the apprentices dropped their catch for the other cats to share.

“What shall I do with it?” asked Ravenpaw, sniffing the snake’s long body as it lay beside the heap.

“Can you _eat_ adders?” asked Greypaw.

“Trust _you_ to think of your stomach!” Firepaw joked, butting Greypaw with his head.

“Well, I wouldn’t _want_ to eat it,” murmured Ravenpaw. “I mean, my mouth tastes pretty foul after carrying it back.”

“Let’s put it on the tree stump, then,” suggested Greypaw, “so that Dustpaw and Sandpaw can see it when they get back.”

They each carried a piece of their fresh-kill, and the adder, back to their den. Greypaw carefully placed the adder on the stump, arranging the snake so that it could be seen clearly from all sides. Then they ate.  
When they had finished they sat close together to groom one another and talk.

“I wonder who Bluestar will choose to go to the Gathering?” Firepaw meowed. “It’ll be full moon tomorrow.”

“Sandpaw and Dustpaw have been twice already,” replied Greypaw.

“Perhaps Bluestar will choose one of us this time,” mewed Firepaw. “After all, we’ve been training for almost three moons now.”

“But Sandpaw and Dustpaw are still the eldest apprentices,” Ravenpaw pointed out.  
Firepaw nodded.

“And this Gathering will be an important one. It’ll be the first time the Clans have met since WindClan disappeared. No cat knows what ShadowClan is going to say about it.”

Tigerclaw’s low meow interrupted them.

“You are right, youngster.” The warrior had strolled up to them unnoticed.

“By the way, Firepaw,” he added smoothly, “Bluestar wants to see you.”

Firepaw looked up, startled. Why would Bluestar want to see him?

“Now—if you can spare the time,” Tigerclaw meowed.  
Firepaw jumped up immediately and bounded off across the clearing toward Bluestar’s den.

The grey leader was sitting outside, her tail flicking restlessly back and forth. When she saw Firepaw she stood up and looked steadily down at him.

“Are you sure you wish to be a warrior?” She murmured solemnly.

Firepaw was confused. Of course he wanted to be a warrior. That was why Bluestar had chosen him in the first place!

“Bluestar?” He asked hesitantly.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you.” She sighed.

He was scared now. Would be get kicked out for a detour?! He hadn't _meant_ to run into Smudge, and doing so had hardened his resolve. He had to become a warrior of ThunderClan! It was his destiny!

“Tigerclaw has told me that he saw you talking with a cat from Twolegplace today,” she meowed quietly.  
“He was an old friend,from when I was a kittypet.”

“Do you miss your old life, Firepaw?”

“I don't.”

“Do you wish to leave the Clan?”

“What? No! Of _course_ not!”

_It's happening again… oh StarClan, why would you let this happen again! Haven't we been through enough?!_

“Perhaps I was wrong to expect so much of you.”

Great StarClan, no…

“I have not, and never will, live with a paw in each world. My world is here, Bluestar, with you and Greypaw and Lionheart, Sandpaw and Dustpaw, with Whitestorm and Ravenpaw. And-.” He stopped himself.

This _wasn't_ her rebelling against StarClan. Tigerclaw _hasn't_ turned on them. Everything is fine. For now.

“And?”

“And I need you to give me a chance to prove that.” Firepaw insisted. “ _Please_.”

Bluestar stared at him, her eyes glaring into what felt like his very soul for a few heartbeats. Finally, she spoke.

“Although you showed bad judgment in conversing with an outsider… twice, now, I am rather impressed by your hunting skills. Since you three have done so well today, you will go to the Gathering later.”

* * *

Greypaw and Ravenpaw looked stunned to see Firepaw bounding happily toward them. They had been w aiting nervously for him beside the tree stump. Firepaw sat down and looked at his friends.

“Well?” Greypaw demanded. “What did she say?”

“Tigerclaw told us you’d been sharing tongues with a kittypet this morning,” burst out Ravenpaw. “Are you in trouble?”

“No. Although Bluestar wasn’t pleased,” Firepaw admitted ruefully. “She thought I might want to leave ThunderClan.”

“You don’t, do you?” asked Ravenpaw.

“Of course he doesn’t!” mewed Greypaw.

Firepaw gave his gray friend an affectionate swipe.

“Yeah, you’d hate that. You need me to catch mice for you! All you can catch these days are hairy old squirrels!”

Greypaw dodged out of the way of Firepaw’s blow, and reared up on his back legs to retaliate.

“You’ll never guess what else she said!” Firepaw went on. He was too excited to waste time play-fighting.

Greypaw immediately dropped back onto all four paws. “What?” he asked.

“We’re going to the Gathering!”

Greypaw let out a yowl of delight and bounded up onto the tree stump. One of his back paws knocked the adder flying. It hit Ravenpaw on the head and wrapped itself around his neck. Ravenpaw spat with alarm and surprise, and then turned on Greypaw.

“Watch it!” he hissed crossly. He shook the adder onto the ground.

“Scared it might try to bite you?” Firepaw teased. He crouched down, hissing, and sidled up to Ravenpaw.   
Ravenpaw twitched his whiskers and retorted, “Some snake you’d make!” 

“Are Sandpaw and Dustpaw coming too?” puffed Greypaw.

“Nope!” Firepaw replied. “I can’t believe we’re finally going! Especially after Tigerclaw saw me with Smudge today!”

“That was just bad luck,” answered Greypaw. “We all caught a load of prey in the assessment. That must be what decided it.”

“I wonder what the Gathering will be like,” mewed Ravenpaw.

“It’ll be fantastic,” Greypaw replied confidently. “I bet all the great warriors will be there. Clawface, Stonefur…”

But Firepaw wasn’t listening anymore. Instead, he found himself thinking about Tigerclaw and Smudge.   
Why  _ had _ Tigerclaw sent him so near his old haunts? Had he wanted to test him? Could it be the great dark warrior didn’t trust his loyalty to ThunderClan? 

“StarClan knows that I don't trust him to the length of my shortest whisker.” Firepaw scoffed. “Maybe he's catching on.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering doesn't go well.

Firepaw peered over the brow of a bush-covered slope. Greypaw and Ravenpaw crouched beside him. Next to them, a group of ThunderClan elders, queens, and warriors waited in the undergrowth for Bluestar to give the signal. The steep-sided glade looked different than when he saw it last. The rich greenness of the woods had been bleached away by the cold light of the full moon, and the leaves on the trees glowed silver. At the bottom stood the large oaks that marked where the corner of each Clan’s territory touched the other three. The air was thick with the warm scents of cats from the other Clans. Firepaw could see them clearly in the moonlight, moving about below in the grassy clearing that lay between the four oaks. In the center of the clearing, a large, jagged rock rose from the forest floor like a broken tooth.

Ah, Fourtrees… of all the places in his old home, this had been among the first to go. Looking back, Firepaw should have gathered the Clans the second their missing cats returned with news of a new home.  

“Look at all those cats down there!” breathed Ravenpaw, jerking his friend from his thoughts. 

“There’s Crookedstar!” Greypaw hissed back. “RiverClan’s leader.” 

“Where?” Firepaw mewed, nudging Greypaw impatiently. He didn't know much about Crookedstar, but he figured that the Driver leader couldn't be too happy about his deputy's untimely demise. 

“That light-colored tabby, beside the Great Rock.”

  
Firepaw followed Greypaw’s nod and saw the huge tom, even bigger than Lionheart, sitting at the center of the clearing. His striped coat shone pale in the moonlight. Even from this distance, his old face showed the signs of a harsh life, and his mouth looked twisted like it had once been broken and had healed badly.   
Ravenpaw interrupted their gaping with a muffled growl.

“Look! There’s Brokenstar. ShadowClan’s leader,” he hissed.

  
Firepaw glared down at the dark brown tabby. His fur was unusually long and his face was broad and flattened. There was a stillness in the way he sat and stared around him that made Firepaw’s fur prickle uncomfortably. He knew from before what the evil leader was doing to his Clan, and he hated it. What leader sent kits into battle without proper training, or at all for that matter?!

“You're tensed up.” Ravenpaw informed him. Firepaw relaxed his muscles and nodded his thanks.

  
“He looks pretty nasty,” Firepaw muttered in explanation.

  
“Yeah,” agreed Greypaw. “He’s certainly got a reputation among all the Clans for not suffering fools gladly. And he’s not been a leader that long—four moons, ever since his father, Raggedstar, died.”

  
“What does the leader of WindClan look like?” Firepaw asked.

  
“Tallstar? I’ve never seen him, but I know he’s black and white with a very long tail,” answered Greypaw.

If Tallstar wasn't here, the WindClan must have already been run out.

“Can you see him now?” asked Ravenpaw.

  
Greypaw peered down, searching the crowd of cats below. “Nope!”

  
“Can you scent any WindClan cats?” Firepaw asked.

  
Greypaw shook his head.

  
Lionheart’s meow sounded softly beside them.

“The WindClan cats may just be late.”

“But what if they don’t turn up at all?” retorted Greypaw. 

“Hush! We must all be patient. These are difficult times. Now keep quiet. Bluestar will give the signal to move soon,” Lionheart insisted quietly. 

As he spoke, Bluestar stood, and, holding her tail high, flicked it from one side to the other. Firepaw’s heart soared as the ThunderClan cats rose as one and bounded through the bushes, down toward the meeting place. He raced alongside them, feeling the wind rush in his ears and his paws tingle with anticipation. The ThunderClan cats paused instinctively on the edge of the clearing, outside the boundary of the oaks. Bluestar sniffed the air. Then she nodded and the troop moved forward into the clearing.   
Firepaw felt thrilled. The other cats looked even more impressive close up, milling about the Great Rock. A large white warrior strode past. Ravenpaw looked at him in awe. 

“Look at his paws!” Ravenpaw murmured.   
Firepaw looked down and realized the huge paws of this great tom were jet black. 

“It must be Blackfoot,” mewed Grewpaw. “ShadowClan’s new deputy.”

He hadn't expected to see the large white tom here. He'd forgotten how old the future ShadowClan leader was.  
Blackfoot stalked over to Brokenstar and sat down beside him. The brown tabby acknowledged him with a twitch of one ear, but said nothing. 

“When does the meeting begin?” Ravenpaw asked Whitestorm. 

“Be patient, Ravenpaw,” the white tom murmured, amused. “The sky is clear tonight, so we have plenty of time.” 

Lionheart leaned over and added, “We warriors like to spend a little time boasting about our victories, while the elders swap tales about the ancient days before the Twolegs came here.”

That first part was definitely true, Firepaw recalled.

All three apprentices looked up at him and saw his whiskers twitch mischievously.

Dappletail, One-eye, and Smallear headed straight off toward a group of elderly cats who were settling themselves below one of the oak trees. Whitestorm and Lionheart strolled over to another pair of warriors that Firepaw did not recognize. He sniffed the air and knew their scent to be RiverClan.   
Bluestar’s voice sounded behind the three apprentices.

“Don’t waste any of your time tonight,” she admonished. “This is a good opportunity to meet your enemies. Listen to them; remember what they look like and how they behave. There is a great deal to be learned from these meetings.”

“And say little,” warned Tigerclaw. “Don’t give anything away that might be used against us once the moon as waned.”

Firepaw scoffed, remembering how many times he'd said the exact same thing to every apprentice he took to the Gathering.

“We won’t!” Firepaw assured him smoothly, glaring into Tigerclaw’s eyes.

The two warriors nodded and moved on, and the apprentices were left alone. They looked at each other. 

“What do you want to do now?” Firepaw asked. 

“What they said,” replied Ravenpaw. “Listen.” 

“And don’t say too much,” Greypaw added. 

Firepaw nodded.

“I’m going to see where Tigerclaw went,” he mewed.

“Well, I’m going to find Lionheart,” mewed Greypaw. “You coming, Ravenpaw?” 

“No, thanks,” Ravenpaw replied. “I’m going to find some of the other apprentices.” 

“Okay, we’ll meet up later,” mewed Firepaw, and he trotted in the direction Tigerclaw had taken. 

He scented the dark tabby easily and found him sitting at the center of a group of huge warriors, behind the Great Rock. 

It was a tale Firepaw had heard many times at camp. Tigerclaw was describing the recent battle against the RiverClan hunting party.

“I wrestled like a LionClan cat. Three warriors tried to hold me but I threw them off. I fought them until two lay knocked out and the other had run off into the forest like a kit crying for its mother.”

Firepaw scoffed as he recalled what happened at the battle. Tigerclaw fought fiercely, yes, but _he_ was the one who started the fight. _And he better not say anything about Redtail or Oakheart._

Firepaw listened politely to the end of the story, but a familiar scent was distracted him. As soon as Tigerclaw finished speaking, Firepaw turned and crept away toward the sweet smell that emanated from a group of cats nearby. He found Greypaw sitting among these cats, but that was not the scent he had followed, he realized. Sitting opposite Greypaw, between two RiverClan toms, was Spottedleaf. Firepaw nodded greetings and settled himself beside his friend. 

“Still no scent of WindClan,” he mewed to Greypaw. 

“The meeting hasn’t begun yet; they may still come,” replied his friend. “Look, there’s Runningnose. He’s the new ShadowClan medicine cat, apparently.” He nodded toward a small gray-and-white cat at the   
center of the group. 

“I can see why they call him Runningnose,” Firepaw remarked. The medicine cat’s nose was wet at the tip and encrusted around the edges. 

“Yep,” replied Greypaw with a scornful growl. “I can’t see why they appointed him when he can’t even cure his own cold!”

“He's probably got something he can't cure. StarClan wouldn't have accepted him if he wasn't good at his job.” Firepaw rebuked.

“Oh, I forgot that you're the expert on all things herbs.” Greypaw snickered.  
Runningnose was telling the cats about a herb that medicine cats had used in the old days to cure kitten-cough.

“Since the Twolegs came and filled the place with hard earth and strange flowers,” he complained in a high-pitched yowl, “the herb has disappeared, and kittens die needlessly in cold weather.”

“It never would have happened in the time of the great Clan cats,” growled a black RiverClan queen.

“Indeed,” mewled a silver tabby. “The great cats would have killed any Twolegs that dared enter their territory. If TigerClan roamed this forest still, Twolegs would not have built this far into our land.” 

Then Firepaw heard Spottedleaf’s quiet mew. “If TigerClan still roamed these forests, _we_ would hardly have made our territory here.” ThunderClan's tortoiseshell medicine cat snorted. 

“What’s TigerClan?” mewed a small voice beside them. Firepaw noticed a little tabby apprentice from one of the other Clans sitting beside him. 

“TigerClan is one of the great cat Clans that used to roam the forest,” Greypaw explained quietly. 

“TigerClan were cats of the night, big as horses, with jet-black stripes. Then there is LionClan. They’re…” Greypaw hesitated, frowning as he tried to remember. 

“Oh! I’ve heard of them,” mewed the tabby. “They were as big as TigerClan cats, with yellow fur and golden manes like rays of the sun.”   
Greypaw nodded.

 

“And then there is the other one, SpottyClan or something like that….”

“I suspect you’re thinking of LeopardClan, young Greypaw,” meowed a voice from behind them. 

“Lionheart!” Greypaw greeted his mentor with an affectionate touch of his nose. 

Lionheart shook his head in mock despair.

“Don’t you youngsters know your history? LeopardClan are the swiftest cats, huge and golden, spotted with black pawprints. You can thank LeopardClan for the speed and hunting skills you now possess.” 

“Thank them? Why?” asked the tabby. 

Lionheart gazed down at the little apprentice and answered.

“There is a trace of all the great cats in every cat today. We would not be night hunters without our TigerClan ancestors, and our love of the sun’s warmth comes from LionClan.” He paused. “You are a ShadowClan apprentice, aren’t you? How many moons are you?” 

The tabby stared awkwardly down at the ground.

“S-six moons,” he stammered, not meeting Lionheart’s eye.

“Rather small for six moons,” Lionheart murmured. His tone was gentle, but his gaze was searching and serious. 

“My mother was small too,” answered the tabby nervously. He bowed his head and backed away, disappearing into the crowd of cats with a twitch of his light brown tail.   
Lionheart turned to Firepaw and Greypaw.

“Well, he might be small, but at least he was curious. If only you two showed as much interest in the stories your elders tell!”

“Sorry, Lionheart,” Firepaw and Greypaw mewed, exchanging smirking glances.   
Lionheart grunted good-naturedly.

“Oh, go away, the pair of you! Next time I hope Bluestar decides to bring apprentices who appreciate what they hear.” And with a half-hearted growl he chased them away from  
the group.   


They found Ravenpaw telling other apprentices about the battle, and he didn't look too comfortable. Firepaw sidled up beside him.

“How about you tell them about the time you caught a snake?” He asked. The black tom nodded gratefully as the other apprentices went wild with awe.

“You caught a snake?!” They chorused. Ravenpaw was far more eager to tell that story.

 

One of the leaders yowled for the Gathering to start, and a glance up saw Bluestar and Crookedstar glaring at Brokenstar.

“Surely we won't start without WindClan?” Someone called out.

“They didn't show up to the Gathering before this one either.” Lionheart reported.

“We can’t start yet,” yowled one voice above the noise. “Where are the WindClan representatives? We must wait until all the Clans are present.”

On top of the rock, Bluestar stepped forward. Her gray fur glowed almost white in the moonlight.

“Cats of all Clans, welcome,” she meowed in a clear voice. “It is true that WindClan is not present, but Brokenstar wishes to speak anyway.”   
Brokenstar padded noiselessly up to stand beside Bluestar. He surveyed the crowd for a few moments, his yellow eyes burning. Then he took a deep breath and began.

“Friends, I come to speak to you tonight about the needs of ShadowClan-!” 

But he was interrupted by raised, impatient voices from below. 

“Where is Tallstar?” cried one. 

“Where are the WindClan warriors?” yowled another. 

Brokenstar stretched up to his full height and lashed his tail from side to side.

“As the leader of ShadowClan, it is my right to address you here!” he growled in a voice full of menace. The crowd fell into an uneasy silence. All around him, Firepaw could smell the acrid tang of fear.

Brokenstar yowled again.

“We all know that the hard time of leaf-bare, and late newleaf, have left us with little prey in our hunting grounds. But we also know that WindClan, RiverClan, and ThunderClan lost many kits in the freezing weather that came so late this season. ShadowClan did not lose kits. We are hardened to the cold north wind. Our kits are stronger than yours from the moment they are born. And so we find ourselves with many mouths to feed, and too little prey to feed them.”

The crowd, still silent, listened anxiously. 

“The needs of ShadowClan are simple. In order to survive, we must increase our hunting territory. That is why I insist that you allow ShadowClan warriors to hunt in your territories.” 

A shocked but muted growl rippled through the crowd. 

" _Share_ our hunting grounds?” called the outraged voice of Tigerclaw. 

“It is unprecedented!” cried a tortoiseshell queen from RiverClan. “The Clans have never shared hunting rights!” 

“Should ShadowClan be punished because our kits thrive?” yowled Brokenstar from the Great Rock. 

“Do you want us to watch our young starve? You must share what you have with us.” 

“ _Must?_ !” spat Smallear furiously from the back of the crowd. “We _must_ do nothing of the sort!” 

“Must,” repeated Brokenstar. “WindClan failed to understand this. In the end, we were forced to drive them out of their territory.” 

Snarls of outrage burst from the crowd, but Brokenstar’s caterwaul rang loud above them: “And, if we have to, we will drive you all from your hunting grounds in order to feed our hungry kits.” 

The snarls swelled to a roar.

It took a few heartbeats for every cat to settle down, but eventually, the crowd fell to silence.

On the other side of the clearing, Firepaw heard a RiverClan apprentice start to mutter something, but he was quickly hushed by an elder.

Satisfied that he had every cat’s attention, Brokenstar continued.

“Each year, the Twolegs spoil more of our territory. At least one Clan must remain strong, if all the Clans are to survive. ShadowClan thrives while you all struggle, and there may come a time when you will need us to protect you.”

“You doubt our strength?” hissed Tigerclaw among others. His pale eyes glared threateningly at the ShadowClan leader, and his powerful shoulders rippled with tension. 

“I do not ask for your answer now.” Brokenstar assured, ignoring the warrior’s challenge. “You must each go away and consider my words. But bear this in mind: Would you prefer to share your prey, or be driven out and left homeless and starving?”

Warriors, elders, and apprentices looked at one another in disbelief. There was no way any cat would take this sitting down. Maybe Crookedstar… but the light brown leader merely glared at the tyrant before him.

“I do believe, my fellow Clanmates, that we have found the clumsy scoundrels responsible for stealing our prey.” The leader's twisted jaw made him look absolutely lethal, and Brokenstar stumbled when Crookedstar stepped forward to take his place.

“Cats of all Clans, your respective leaders shall do what they wish, but RiverClan has made no such agreement. Any attempts to gain access to our land without permission will be met with hostility, and that's _if_ you don't drown first.” He purred darkly. “Brokenstar endangers his Clan at his own will, but I expect Bluestar to be more sensible.”

“As you are right to.” The ThunderClan leader meowed gratefully. “Since we obviously need time to gather our thoughts on this new development, we shall reconvene at the next full moon. Hopefully with happier news.”

“I should warn you all that our former medicine cat has has turned rogue and may be lurking in your territory. She allowed a multitude of our young kits to die these past few seasons.” Brokenstar growled. “So beware.”

ShadowClan left at a tail-flick from the deputy. Brokenstar glared at the Clans one last time before joining them.

Firepaw burned with rage. Another thing he'd forgotten was how persuasive cats like Brokenstar and Tigerclaw truly were. No one had any reason to doubt them.

“What do you think of all that?” Greypaw mewed in a low voice.

Ravenpaw bounded over before Firepaw could reply.

“What’s going to happen now?” he wailed, fur fluffed up in alarm and eyes wider than ever.

Firepaw didn’t answer. The elders of ThunderClan were gathering nearby, and he was straining to hear what they were saying. 

“That must be Yellowfang he was talking about,” growled Smallear. 

“Well, she did snap at Goldenflower’s youngest kit the other day,” murmured Speckletail darkly. She was the oldest nursery queen, and fiercely protective of all the kits. 

“And we’ve left her behind, with the camp virtually unguarded!” wailed One-eye, who for once seemed to be having no trouble hearing everything. 

“I tried to tell you she was a danger to us,” hissed Darkstripe. “Bluestar has to listen to reason now and get rid of her before she harms any of our young!”   
Tigerclaw strode up to the group.

“We must return to camp at once and deal with this rogue!” he yowled.

Firepaw didn’t stop to hear more. His mind was spinning. Loyal as he was to his Clan, he knew exactly what was going on. Yellowfang wasn't the danger, but everyone would think she was. Frightened for the old she-cat, burning with questions only she could answer, he raced away from Greypaw and Ravenpaw without a word. 

He charged up the hillside and pelted through the forest. He had to get to her in time!

 


	16. Chapter 16

Firepaw reached the edge of the ravine and looked down at the camp. He was panting and his paws were slippery with dew. He sniffed the air. He was alone. There was still time to speak to Yellowfang before the others returned from the Gathering. Silently, he jumped down the rocky slope and slipped through the gorse tunnel unnoticed. The camp was still and quiet, apart from the muted snuffles of sleeping cats. Firepaw quickly crept around the edge of the clearing to Yellowfang’s nest. The old medicine cat was curled on top of her mossy bedding.

“Yellowfang,” he hissed urgently. “Yellowfang! Wake up; it’s important!”

Two orange eyes opened and glinted in the moonlight.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” meowed Yellowfang quietly. She sounded calm and alert. “You came straight from the Gathering to me? That must mean you’ve heard.” She blinked slowly and looked away. “So Brokenstar kept his promise.”

“What promise?” Firepaw didn't remember this part.

“ShadowClan’s noble leader promised to drive me from every Clan territory,” Yellowfang replied dryly. “What did he say about me?”

“He warned us that our kits were in danger as long as we sheltered the ShadowClan rogue. He didn’t say your name, but ThunderClan guessed who he was talking about. You must leave before the others get back. You are in danger!”

“You mean they believed him?” Yellowfang flattened her ears and swished her tail angrily.

“Yes!” Firepaw meowed urgently. “Darkstripe says you’re dangerous. The other cats are scared of what you might do. Tigerclaw is planning to come back and… I think you should go before they get here!”

In the distance, Firepaw could hear the yowls of angry cats. Yellowfang struggled stiffly to her paws. Firepaw gave her a nudge to help her up, his mind still spinning with questions.

“What did Brokenstar mean when he warned us to keep a close eye on our kits?” he couldn’t stop himself from asking. He still had a part to play. “Would you really do something like that?”

“Would I what?”

“Harm our kits? You don't seem to like them much.”

Yellowfang flared her nostrils and looked steadily at him.

“I'm a medicine cat, Firepaw. It doesn't matter whether I like my patients, I must treat them equally. Your time with Spottedleaf must have taught you that.”

The noise of the cats was coming nearer, and with it, the scents of aggression and anger.  
“You should go while you still can.” Firepaw urged. Her safety was more important than his curiosity.

Yellowfang snorted, choosing to remain where she was and stare at him.

“Firepaw, you believe I’m innocent, and I’m grateful for that. Cats tend to believe their healers. I know Bluestar will at least give me a fair hearing. I’m too old to run forever, so I shall stay here and face whatever your Clan decides for me.” She sighed and sank down onto her bony haunches.

“But what about Tigerclaw? What if he-?”

“Headstrong, powerful, and charismatic he may be, but even he will obey his leader.”

Rustling in the undergrowth beyond the camp boundary told Firepaw that the cats were almost at the entrance.  
“Go on, now.” hissed Yellowfang, baring her blackened teeth at him. “Don’t make trouble for yourself by being seen with me. There is nothing you can do Have faith in your leader, and let her decide what happens.”

Firepaw figured that Yellowfang would stick this out. Apparently, there was no changing her mind. He touched his nose to her patchy fur, then crept silently away into the shadows to watch.

Through the gorse came the cats—Bluestar first, accompanied by Lionheart. Frostfur and Willowpelt were right behind them.

Frostfur raced away from the troop immediately and ran toward the nursery, the fur on her tail bristling in alarm. Tigerclaw and Darkstripe strode into the clearing, shoulder to shoulder, looking grim. The others followed behind, with Ravenpaw and Greypaw at the rear. As soon as he saw his friends, Firepaw trotted out to join them.

“You went to warn Yellowfang, didn’t you?” whispered Greypaw when Firepaw reached his side.

“Yes, I did,” Firepaw admitted. “But she won’t leave. She trusts Bluestar to treat her fairly. Did anyone miss me?”

“Only us,” replied Ravenpaw.

Around the camp, the cats who had stayed behind began to wake up. They must have scented the aggression and heard the tension in the voices of the returning cats, for they all came running into the clearing, their tails held high.

“What has happened?” called a tabby warrior named Runningwind.

“Brokenstar has demanded hunting rights for ShadowClan in our territory!” replied Longtail loudly enough for all the cats to hear.

“And he warned us about a rogue cat who will harm our kits!” added Willowpelt. “It must be Yellowfang!”

Meows of anger and distress rose from the crowd.

“Silence!” ordered Bluestar, leaping onto the Highrock. Instinctively, the cats settled in front of her.

A loud screech made every cat turn their head toward the fallen tree where the elders slept. Tigerclaw and Darkstripe were dragging Yellowfang roughly from her nest. She shrieked furiously as they hauled her into the clearing and dumped her in front of the Highrock. Firepaw felt every muscle in his body tense. Without thinking, he dropped into a low crouch, ready to spring at Yellowfang’s persecutors.

“Wait, Firepaw,” Greypaw hissed in his ear. “Let Bluestar deal with this.”

“What is going on?” demanded Bluestar, jumping down from the Highrock and glaring at her warriors. “I gave no order to attack our prisoner.”

Tigerclaw and Darkstripe instantly let go of Yellowfang. She crouched in the dust, hissing and spitting. Frostfur appeared from the nursery and pushed her way through to the front of the Clan.

“We got back in time,” she meowed with a gasp. “The kits are safe!”

“Of course they are!” snapped Bluestar.

Frostfur seemed taken aback.

“But…you are going to throw Yellowfang out, aren’t you?” she meowed, blue eyes wide.

“Throw her out?” spat Darkstripe, unsheathing his claws. “We should kill her now!”

Bluestar fixed her piercing blue eyes on Darkstripe’s angry face.

“And what has she done?” she asked with icy calm. Firepaw held his breath.

“You were at the Gathering! Brokenstar said she-!” Darkstripe began.

“Brokenstar said only that there is a rogue somewhere in the woods,” Bluestar cut him off, her voice menacingly quiet. “He did not mention Yellowfang by name. The kits are safe.  
For as long as she is in my Clan, Yellowfang will not be harmed in any way.”

Bluestar’s words were met with silence, and Firepaw heaved a sigh of relief.

Yellowfang looked up at Bluestar and narrowed her eyes respectfully.

“I will leave now, if you wish it, Bluestar.”

“There is no need,” Bluestar replied. “You have done nothing wrong. You will be safe here.” The ThunderClan leader lifted her gaze to the crowd of cats that surrounded Yellowfang and meowed, “It is time we discussed the real threat to our Clan: Brokenstar. We have already begun to prepare for an attack by ShadowClan,” Bluestar began. “We’ll carry on with those preparations, and patrol our borders more frequently. WindClan has gone, but we have a potential ally in RiverClan. ThunderClan does not stand alone against Brokenstar.”

A murmur of defiance rippled through the cats, and Firepaw felt his fur prickle with anticipation.

“Clans have never shared hunting rights before,” Bluestar insisted. “They have always managed to support themselves in their own territories. There is no reason why this should change.” Tigerclaw nodded approvingly.

“But can we defend ourselves against a ShadowClan attack?” asked Smallear’s tremulous voice. “WindClan didn’t manage it! Crookedstar basically dared them to come onto his territory. They have plenty of natural defense in their territory, what do we have going for us?”

Bluestar met his old eyes with a steady gaze.

“We will do what we must. We will not give up our territory without a fight.”

All around the clearing, Firepaw saw the cats nodding in agreement.

“I shall travel to the Moonstone tomorrow,” Bluestar announced. “The warriors of StarClan will give me the strength I need to lead ThunderClan through this dark time. You must all get some rest. We have a lot to do when daylight comes. I wish to speak with Lionheart now.” Without another word, she turned and strode toward her den.

Firepaw noticed the look of wonder that had entered the eyes of some of the cats when Bluestar had mentioned the Moonstone. Cats hurriedly gathered in groups, meowing in hushed voices full of excitement.

Firepaw watched Yellowfang limp back to her shadowy nest. It looked like Tigerclaw’s rough treatment had aggravated her old injury. As he trotted back to the apprentices’ den, Firepaw decided to ask Spottedleaf for more herbs in the morning.

“So what happened?” mewed Dustpaw eagerly, popping his head out of the den.

“It’s like Longtail said. Brokenstar demanded hunting rights….” Greypaw began.

Sandpaw and Dustpaw sat and listened, but Firepaw was watching the camp. He could see the silhouettes of Bluestar and Lionheart sitting close together outside her den, talking urgently.

Then he noticed Ravenpaw’s lithe shape at the entrance to the warriors’ den. Tigerclaw loomed over him. Firepaw saw Ravenpaw’s ears flatten as the young cat flinched away from Tigerclaw’s fierce glare. The dark warrior bore down on him, twice his size, eyes and teeth flashing in the moonlight. What was he saying to Ravenpaw? Firepaw was just about to creep nearer and listen when Ravenpaw backed away, turned, and raced across the clearing.

Firepaw greeted Ravenpaw as he reached the apprentice’s den, but the black tom hardly seemed to notice his friend as he pushed his way inside the den without a word. 

Firepaw got up to follow when he saw Lionheart approaching.   


“Well,” meowed the ThunderClan deputy, striding up to the apprentices. “It seems that Firepaw, Greypaw, and Ravenpaw are about to reach another important stage in their training.”   


“What’s that?” mewed Greypaw, looking excited. 

“Bluestar wishes you three to accompany her on her journey to the Moonstone!” Lionheart didn’t miss the look of disappointment on the faces of Dustpaw and Sandpaw, because he added, 

“Fear not, young ones; you two will make the journey soon enough. For now, ThunderClan needs your strength and skill at the camp. I will remain here as well.”   


Firepaw looked past Lionheart to his leader. She was moving from one group of warriors to another, meowing instructions to each. 

After all this time, he still had no idea why she chose him for this journey.   


“She wants you to rest now,” Lionheart continued. “But first go to Spottedleaf and collect the herbs you will need on this expedition. It’s a long way, and you will need something to give you strength and quell your appetite. There will be little time for catching prey.”   


Greypaw nodded, and Firepaw dragged his gaze away from Bluestar and nodded too.   


“Where is Ravenpaw?” asked Lionheart.   


“He’s in his nest already,” replied Firepaw.   


“Good. Leave him to sleep. You can fetch herbs for him,” meowed Lionheart. “Rest well. You leave at dawn.” He flicked his tail and walked back to Bluestar’s den.   


“Well, then,” mewed Sandpaw. “You’d better go and see Spottedleaf.”   


Firepaw listened for sourness in her voice, but there was none. There was no time for jealousy now. All the cats in the Clan seemed to be united against the threat from ShadowClan. Firepaw and Greypaw walked quickly toward Spottedleaf’s den. The fern tunnel was dark. Not even the full moon penetrated its thick covering. The dappled medicine cat seemed to be expecting them as they emerged into her moonlit clearing. 

“You need traveling herbs,” she meowed.   


“Yes, please,” Firepaw answered. “And I think Yellowfang needs something. She seemed to be feeling her wounds.”   


“I will tend to her after you've gone. And your traveling herbs are ready.” Spottedleaf indicated a pile of carefully made leaf wraps. 

“Enough for the three of you. The dark green herb will stop your hunger pangs during the journey. The other will give you strength. Eat them both just before you leave. They’re not as good as fresh prey, but the taste won’t last long.” She instructed.

  
“Thanks, Spottedleaf,” Firepaw meowed gratefully. He leaned down and picked up one of the parcels. As he bent his head, Spottedleaf stretched over and hissed in his ear. 

“You should seek to learn from the stars, Firepaw.” She murmured. “You will rely on them much during your time here.”    


Greypaw picked up the other two and the friends turned and headed back through the tunnel.   


“Good luck!” Spottedleaf called after them. “Travel safely.”   


They arrived at the entrance to their den and dropped the bundles.   


“Well, I just hope these herbs don’t taste too revolting!” muttered Greypaw.

“You'll be glad you ate them later.” Firepaw insisted. 

“Okay, Spottedleaf the Second. I'll eat my herbs like a good little kit.” Greypaw scowled as he curled up in his nest. 

Firepaw recalled how exciting it was to be chosen for such an important journey, but he also remembered how everything fell apart. He knew that it was imperative for him to tell Bluestar about Tigerclaw as quickly as possible. Everything would go far too wrong otherwise. 

 


End file.
